


The Laws of Refraction

by tebtosca



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Arranged Marriage, Future Fic, Humor, IN SPACE!, M/M, Robots, Royalty, Space Husbands, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/pseuds/tebtosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the assassination of their rival fathers, Princes Jared and Jensen are forced into marriage to stop full-out intergalactic war. Yet, things don't go quite as planned when the space pirate ex-boyfriend of one of the bridegrooms decides to stage an impromptu "rescue" mission that sets off a series of events that have consequences far beyond a single wedding ceremony. After all, no one said space diplomacy was easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Laws of Refraction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN-J2-Bigbang -- my fourth year participating! All art by the AMAZING lightthesparks -- go check out the masterpost on livejournal and give lots of love -----> http://lightthesparks.livejournal.com/106702.html

Many centuries ago, on a faraway planet the galaxy historians call “Earth”, there lived a race of beings called humans. These beings, growing ever more corrupt and wasteful, pillaged the land that had sustained them since the dawn of their kind, until the resources of the soil and air grew scarce. These dwindling resources made the beings scared, and fear became the motivator that caused strife. 

War broke out amongst the nations, followed swiftly by outbreaks of disease caused by both the weapons of destruction created to fight them, and the rotting bodies created in their wake. Soon, these weapons poisoned not just the beings and their livestock, but the very seedlings in the ground and air that sustained them.

Earth, that once-mighty rock full of life, was dying.

During this time, there was a group of scientists and explorers who teamed together with the hopes that humankind would be able to continue to exist.

The leader of this mission was a man, an astronaut daredevil from a place called “Dallas” named Jonah Ackles. He, along with a crew of seven brave souls in a brand new ship built with the outer limits of human technology, led the first exploratory mission to find the humans a new home. 

It took years, but Ackles and his crew returned, triumphant with the knowledge that there was a new place for them, a perfect life-sustaining homeland in their future. The Earth, however, had been wracked with even more devastation in that time, and they returned to a wasteland on the brink of destruction.

But these humans, the ones fortified with the most powerful emotion of all – hope – built the ships they would dub “arks”. They were from all different pockets of the world, the very future of their kind’s existence resting on their shoulders. 

Forty thousand, three hundred, and fifty-eight human beings stepped upon those ships. Over eight billion more perished.

Jonah Ackles led his people to their new home, a place so like Earth that if one closed one’s eyes, one could almost believe one never left. But upon opening them, the soft emerald glaze of the sky would tell the true story. The forty thousand, as grateful as they were to be alive, would often times weep for everything they lost.

Their new home was dubbed Dallasia, a place that would one day become one of the most powerful planets in the galaxy.

==

The Dallasians inherited many things from their forebears, among them the competitive striving for territory and importance. Not content with the bountiful blessings of their own planet, they struck up a bitter rivalry with the neighboring planet of Padaleck over issues ranging from shared shipping lanes to their preferred spot on the Intergalactic High Council. 

King Ackles, a direct descendant of the original discoverer of their home planet, and King Padalecki became vicious rivals. The animosity between them grew to such heights that the brink of full war was upon them.

High Councilor Richings, the ruler of a small but wealthy planet in the south quandrant, and the long-time leader of the Intergalactic High Council, was concerned that this strife would spill out into the neighboring planets and bring turmoil to their galaxy and, eventually, the ones beyond it. With great fortitude, he declared peace talks to begin immediately, and planned to host a conference on the neutral trading planet of Reaprus.

King Ackles and King Padalecki were not used to being told what to do, but respect for the rules of the Council was paramount to any good ruler in the Samulet region. Only slightly chastened, they, along with members of their own advisory committees, headed towards Reaprus to begin the grueling proceedings. 

It was hard work at first, borne of decades of mistrust and the hot-headed nature of the Kings themselves. But together, they struggled on to reach a common discourse.

On the third day of the conference, tragedy struck.

A team of marauders, faces covered in black netting, converged on the Great Hall and bathed the walls in the multi-hued blood of the esteemed participants. High Councilor Richings just managed to escape, but at the end of the great attack, both Kings Ackles and Padalecki lay dead upon the floor among the guards tasked with protecting them.

Back on their home planets, things were on high alert, as each side accused the other of planning the illicit attack. Tempers flared and the galaxy itself seemed on the brink of an all-out territorial war.

But then, cooler heads prevailed, as the fair Queens of the planets stepped up and demanded center stage.

Queen Samantha of Dallasia and Queen Amanda of Padaleck, both beautiful of face and iron of spine, were by their very nature wiser and more temperate than their fallen husbands. The blood-hungry advisors to the Kings urged them to violence and mayhem, but the Queens knew that the only way to restore peace to their section of the galaxy was to put aside their differences and find common ground with each other.

So another conference was called, this time in a small undisclosed location guarded by soldiers that would die bloody before allowing so much as a cup bearer to cross the threshold. In this conference, it was neither shipping lanes nor land grants that were discussed, but rather something far more precious.

For these wise Queens decided, with grief-stricken hearts and hope for the future, that they would unite their planets through a bond of holy matrimony.

It was not their fair daughters that they sought to wed, but rather their firstborns and the heirs to the thrones that they would one day sit upon when the Queens themselves headed to their final rest. For in this union, they would both fortify their futures as a region of peaceful co-existence, and show the other planets of the Intergalactic High Council that a new dawn of shared resources and knowledge was about to rise. 

And that is how the betrothal of Prince Jensen of Dallasia and Prince Jared of Padaleck came to be.

Jensen knows that sneaking away from the royal guard probably wasn’t the _best_ idea he’s ever had when he finds himself lost inside a courtyard lush with multi-colored vegetation. 

His intentions were good, he tells himself, even as he pushes his way through the growth and a bright purple branch smacks him across the cheek. It’s not his fault that his father’s guard is so stringent about where he’s allowed to go – otherwise known as nowhere.

When Jensen managed to convince his father that he was old enough now at the end of ten cycles to join him on the journey to Dominus for the trading conference, he expected that he would be faced with the possibility of great adventure. Instead, he was shoved into a room with the children of the Dominusian chancellor and told to “behave.” 

Prince Jensen, however, is never one to be told what to do, and was aghast that he was being compared to the little babies playing with their toy robots while their parents discussed things of great importance.

No, Jensen is no baby. He is ten, and tall and strong for his age if his tutor Miss Rhodes is to be believed. So, with that knowledge in his mind, he waits until his father’s laziest guard Clif turns his back, and slips out of the room. 

He runs like the wind, realizing after the fact that he doesn’t really have a destination planned. Figuring that it’s just part of the adventure, he continues on his way and hopes that he can find something to amuse himself with.

Now it’s two hours later, and all he’s gotten for his troubles is sore feet and a whack in the face. Sighing, he pushes through the last deep thicket. Before he can catch himself, though, his leg catches on a low branch and he is rolling out of the bushes and down a low hill. 

Jensen cringes when he goes to sit up, his chest hurting slightly from having the wind knocked out of him. His tunic and pants are covered in dirt and leaves, and he groans knowing his father is going to positively _kill_ him when he gets back.

He goes to stand up and then realizes with a tiny bit of fear that maybe dirty clothes aren’t the biggest of his concerns. Trying to put weight on his left leg causes him to cry out and sink back to the ground, where he looks at the deep gash torn into the side of his calf and what surely is a bad sprain if nothing else. 

“Are you alright?” 

The voice shocks Jensen into action, and he makes to stand again as a defensive gesture, before falling back down to the ground, just catching himself on his scrapped up hands. He looks up, ready to fight back, with the most princely chin jut he can manage.

Luckily, it’s just a boy, roughly Jensen’s age, with simple clothing and hair so long that it covers half of his slightly slanted eyes. His face has specks of dirt on it, and it looks like he’s been rolling around in the same overgrowth Jensen has been.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jensen replies, doing his best to remember his manners now that he sees that the boy is not an immediate threat.

The boy squats down in front of Jensen, brushing his shock of chestnut hair out of his face as he does it. He smiles brightly, twin craters in his cheeks making him appear even more harmless.

“You don’t look fine,” the boy replies, and laughs gaily when Jensen scoffs. “I’m Jared. What’s your name?”

Jensen pauses for a moment, assessing the situation. His father has always warned him against being too forward with strangers, the threat to the royal family always at the back of their minds. But this Jared creature doesn’t look like he could hurt a Dallasian horsefly, much less its prince. 

“Jensen.”

Jared nods, appeased, and looks down at the wound on Jensen’s leg. “Your blood is red,” he says, appearing surprised.

“Of course it is. What color is yours?”

“Blue, of course,” Jared replies, picking up a jagged piece of stone from the ground and dragging it across his palm. He hisses a bit with the action, but then holds out his palm, which is indeed streaked with what appears to be blue-colored blood.

Jensen startles in surprise when Jared uses his non-injured hand to grab Jensen’s own scrapped up one. 

“Look at that,” Jared says, a bit of marvel in his tone as he compares the sticky blood.

Jensen scrunches up his face and pulls his hand back. “That’s weird.”

“Not really, no. Perhaps you are the weird one.”

Jensen’s mouth turns down into a pout. How dare this odd boy speak to him like this. “I can assure you that my father would not take kindly to you saying that about me.”

Jared just laughs again, the corners of his mouth stretched so far that they are turning white at the corners. 

“Why are you laughing at me?” Jensen asks, never having experienced such insolence before, and not sure how he feels about it. Or how he _should_ feel about it, more likely.

“Because you’re funny, Jensen,” Jared replies, shrugging like it’s an obvious answer.

Before Jensen can think of how to respond to something like that, Jared starts rooting around in the pockets of his pants and pulls out a small pouch made of some sort of animal skin. He pokes around at it, before finally opening the strings keeping it shut and pulling out what looks like a sticky sort of poultice.

Jared starts towards Jensen’s leg, but Jensen pulls back just in time, scooting on his behind until he’s just out of reach. 

“What is that?” Jensen demands, glaring at the weird green-colored mixture in Jared’s hand.

Jared rolls his eyes, and Jensen can barely see it through the hair covering them. “It’s just some herbs to help stop the bleeding. My mother makes me carry them with me at all times because I seem to trip and fall a lot.”

Jensen barks a laugh, surprised by Jared’s self-deprecating honesty. 

“You should laugh more often. Makes you look like less of a sour-face,” Jared says, sneaking over and starting to apply the herbs to Jensen’s wound before Jensen can think to resist again.

“You should watch who you are calling a sour-face. My father wouldn’t take too kindly to that either.”

Jared’s fingers, small and skinny as they are, make quick work of smoothing the medicinal plants over the gash in Jensen’s calf.

Jensen is so used to the prickly buzz of the nano-bots stitching skin back up when he is cut that having another’s hands on him instead is an odd sensation. He stares at where his own blood is dotting Jared’s skin, swirling the colors together into one. Jensen shakes his head and looks up, as Jared wipes the blood off on the patch of grass beneath them.

“You think quite highly of your father’s opinion, don’t you?” Jared says, the tone of his voice light, but he peers up with little glances from underneath his hair when he says it.

Jensen remembers being told to stay in the little palace room, and disobeying. Jared doesn’t have to know that part, of course.

“Of course I do. Don’t you with yours?”

Jared shrugs again. “Sure. My father is a great man.”

“So is mine. The greatest.” Jensen can’t help puffing his little chest out with his best Ackles pride.

Jared smiles again, smaller this time, but doesn’t say anything else. The boys sit in companionable silence for a moment, the Dominusian sun beating down on their faces. The throbbing in Jensen’s leg dulls, and he begins to open his mouth to thank the boy when his father’s guard Clif comes stomping through the brush and heading straight for him.

The man, hugely round with his gleaming bald head, looks equal parts frustrated and rage-filled, and Jensen grimaces at the sight. He knows that it’s likely Clif won’t tell his father about this discretion, mainly because it would likely involve more punishment for the guard than for the prince.

“Prince Jensen, what do you think you’re doing?” Clif hisses, huffing as he reaches down and pulls the boy bodily into his meaty arms. 

“Prince?” Jared says, his eyes wide as he jumps up. He initially looked like he wanted to defend his new-found friend, but stopped short when he heard what the guard had said to him.

Jensen tries to kick out of Clif’s grasp, embarrassment flooding him at being treated like a baby, but his grip is too solid to get out of. Instead, he just slumps against the man’s chest and nods his head at Jared.

“And you, who do you think you are?” Clif demands. His gaze suddenly takes in the sight of the traces of lingering blood on Jared’s hands and back down at the treated wound on Jensen’s leg. Jensen can feel him vibrating with anger. “Did you do this? Speak now, boy, before I bring the wrath of King Ackles upon you!”

Jared brushes his hair back out of his face and sets his chin in a stern expression that is much too old for his years. He sets his shoulders before he speaks. 

“I am Prince Jared of Padaleck, so you should have some respect, _guard_.”

 _Padaleck?_ Jensen thinks, looking over at the boy, whose entire posture has now changed into something more regal. 

But Clif just sneers. “I should have known. Come, Prince Jensen, let’s get you far away from this primitive creature. His people are animals, every one.”

Before Jensen can say another word, Clif is carrying him off. Jensen manages one last look back at his fellow Prince, who is staring after him with a saddened expression on his face. 

 

“Mother, how could you?” Jensen exclaims, practically stomping his feet on the floor in frustration.

Queen Samantha raises one delicate eyebrow and pours herself a glass of Dallasian wine. She had already excused all the servants so that she and her son could have this talk in private. 

“Jensen, my darling son, we all have our parts to play. Our duty to Dallasia and the galaxy at large is greater than our own personal needs.”

Jensen stares at her, dumbfounded. His father, the king, had always been the one who expounded upon duty and honor, not his mother. She had been the one who had encouraged him to get out and explore, to find out who he was and who he wanted to be. Who is this person now telling him that the very essence of his life is something to be traded away like it’s nothing?

The Queen must sense his confusion, because her face softens and she puts down the goblet to come over and stroke a hand down the side of Jensen’s cheek. If the skin is wet, well, that is between a boy and his mother.

“Jensen, know that I would never ask this of you if I didn’t think it would be the right thing in the long run. Yes, it will be hard at first, but Prince Jared is a good boy and I think, in time, you two will rule our planets with honor. Perhaps even one day with love.”

He pulls away harshly and turns him back on her, causing her to make a low tsking sound. “First of all, you didn’t _ask_ me anything, you _told_ me that you were marrying me off like chattel.”

“Jensen—“

“And secondly, the Padalecki clan are barbarians. How can you expect me to wed someone of so much lower station than myself?”

“Jensen,” Queen Samantha repeats, this time sternly and brooking no argument. Jensen grits his teeth and turns back to face her. Her beautiful face is as tight as the golden braids piled regally atop her head. 

When she sees that she has his attention, she continues. “Your father, may the Gods bless his soul, was a great man, but he also had prejudices ingrained in him from his father before him. Not all of these prejudices were fair, among them those he held against the Padalecki people.”

“But Mother –“

“Jensen, hush while I am speaking.”

Jensen lowers his head, chastened.

“I have met extensively with Queen Amanda and neither of us are taking this union lightly. There are people within the higher echelons of our governments, people still loyal to that traitor Heyerdahl, even after your father had him banished from the quadrant. These people seek to gain power by undermining our reigns. The only way we are going to be able to hold off those threats to our livelihood is to come together and forge an even stronger bond between the two planets. Do you understand now why this is important, not just for us, but for the galaxy as a whole?”

“I do, Mother, but what about Alona?”

“You would have your sister sacrifice in your place? Is this the man I have raised?”

Jensen feels shame burn his cheeks and he closes his eyes. “No, Mother. Of course not.”

Queen Samantha sighs, sitting back down and sipping from her cup once more. “Good boy. Now leave your poor mother to her rest. You have a week until the Padalecki family arrives for the wedding festivities. Do what you must to prepare.”

With one more obedient nod, he retreats from her chambers. The minute the door closes behind him, however, he is scowling at her guardsmen and stomping down the hallway towards his own wing of the palace.

When he approaches his bed chamber, he throws open the door with such force that it makes the furniture vibrate. He slams it closed for good measure and huffs, hands on hips.

“Went that well, huh?” 

Jensen looks at his best friend Misha, curled up in a ball on the chaise. The feelers poking out of his spiky black hair twitch with amusement, and his tail curls around the obsidian blue skin of his ankle.

“You don’t get it,” Jensen grumbles, throwing himself down onto his bed and resisting the temptation to throw an all-out temper tantrum.

Misha just laughs, but Jensen knows that he _doesn’t_ get it. The people from the pleasure planet of Celestia—Misha’s home planet – don’t bother with boring things like diplomacy or stopping impending intergalactic war. Of course, Jensen probably wouldn’t bother either if his entire body was an erogenous zone.

“So what’s the verdict?” Misha prods when Jensen decides to stop talking completely.

Jensen huffs again and rolls over, staring at the ceiling and not at his best friend’s bemused expression.

“I’m being sold into marriage with the Prince of Padalek.”

Misha lets out a long whistle, which is about an octave higher than Jensen is capable of. Somewhere in the distance, a few palace canines howl.

“The Padalecki are very attractive. Tall and shapely.” 

“I tell you that I’m being forced to marry my mortal enemy and your reaction is that at least he’s hot?”

Misha’s feelers wiggle again. “Would you be mad if I said ‘yes, exactly that’?”

Jensen sighs, jumping up from the bed to pour himself four fingers worth of the best liquor in his cabinet. “It’s different for me. This is about honor and duty, not about getting my rocks off.”

“And that’s all life is about for me?” Misha asks.

“Yes.”

“Okay, maybe that’s true,” Misha relents. He hops up off the chaise and saunters over to Jensen, cocking his material-draped hip against the gilded bar. “I can show you a few tricks that’ll impress old Prince Padalecki. Their anatomy is a little, how should I say… _intriguing._ ”

“I would rather consummate my union with my mother’s goblet before doing anything involving you and genitalia.”

“No need to be _rude_ ,” Misha tsks, waving his hand. “I have to go to work anyway. Not all of us are royalty who have luxury handed to us in exchange for a little _duty_ with other hot princes.”

“You’re a courtesan. Work means you lie there and giggle while someone pulls your tail. What a hardship.”

“Someone will be pulling something, but a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Misha replies, blowing Jensen a kiss as he saunters out of the room.

“So I hear Mother’s selling your ass to the Padalecki hottie.”

Jensen rolls his eyes at his little sister’s voice. Leave it to her to sneak in while Misha is slipping out.

“Not you, too. And where the hell are my guards? Ruffians slipping in and out of my chambers like an open-air market.”

Alona just laughs, pulling the cup right out of Jensen’s fist and finishing the last of his booze. She hiccups for good measure, and then throws herself down on Jensen’s bed dramatically.

“I bet you tried to ship me off instead.”

“I did n…okay, I totally did.”

“So predictable.”

Jensen goes over and lies down next to her, propping himself up on his elbow. “I’m a terrible brother.”

Alona’s smile is fond as she runs a hand down his face, just like their mother did earlier. “It would have been much worse if you tried to sell me off to that Gorgon who rules Hellatia. At least Prince Jared is supposed to be handsome.”

“I suppose he should be by now...”

Alona sits up suddenly, nearly knocking Jensen over. “How do you know he is? Have you met him?”

Jensen slaps his hands over his face, hoping that if she can’t see him, she’ll leave him alone and go away. Sadly, he’s been doing the same thing since she was around three years old, so it doesn’t work.

“No, you don’t! No playing hidey-face with me, Jensen,” Alona says, piling her skinny body on him and pulling his hands off his face with both of hers.

“Oof, get off me, you pixie villain!” he insists, rolling her off of him. 

“I want details immediately, brother. You aren’t getting out of it!”

“Shush, you terrible wench, there is nothing to tell. We met once, on Dominus, when we were children. It was mere minutes, until Clif came and fetched me and warned me of the creature I was speaking to.”

“Creature?” Alona says incredulously, then sighs at Jensen’s stoic face in return. “Father surely poisoned your mind, didn’t he?”

“Don’t you _dare_ speak ill of Father. You know nothing about him!” Jensen snarls, jumping up quickly and stomping across the room so that he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Jensen,” Alona starts again, her voice softer this time. “I would never speak ill of Father. I miss him terribly, as does the entire planet. He was a good, fair man. “She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “But he also had deep feelings about the Padalecki people, and I don’t believe all of those feelings were fair. And surely neither does Mother, if she is inspiring this union between our two kinds.”

“It’s just not fair, Alona,” Jensen replies, his tone quiet and somber.

She comes up behind him then, and Jensen can feel where she rests her golden head against the space between his shoulder blades. “I know, Jensen, I know. At least you had that year of adventure traveling, right? And who knows, you and the handsome Prince Jared might yet have many adventures together in the future.”

Jensen turns and wraps his arms around her lithe figure, sighing into her hair. “I doubt it, little sister. I doubt it.”

 

“Prince Jensen of Dallasia?” 

Adrianne stares up at Jared from where she is sitting cross-legged on his bed. His little sister isn’t very little anymore, he thinks fondly. Her mouth is forming a little “O” shape.

“That’s what Mother just told me. Seems we are to be wed in a week’s time as part of some sort of interplanetary peace negotiations.” 

Jared attempts to school his voice into its most neutral tone, but his little sister is not easily fooled and starts squealing as she jumps up and runs over to bear-hug him.

“Well, this is wonderful news, isn’t it? The infamous Prince Jensen is to be your _husband_. How divine is that?” Adrianne says, beaming. Her hair is a mass of chestnut pin-curls and her smile is stretched from ear to ear. She’s adorable, and he finds himself compelled to bend down and press a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s not the most _terrible_ news I’ve ever received, no,” Jared replies, and yelps with a laugh as Adrianne socks him in the shoulder with one fist. 

“I’ve only been listening to you wax lyrical about the mysterious Prince Jensen and his ‘emerald orbs’ since I was old enough to put my shoes on myself. Don’t pretend like you aren’t insanely excited right now.”

Jared feels a blush heating up his cheeks, even as he knows she is right. He’s never forgotten the boy with the bright red blood who literally rolled into his life and then was whisked so unceremoniously out of it.

“I just wish it wasn’t happening under such horrible circumstances.”

Adrianne’s face falls immediately, and she falls into Jared’s grasp. They hold each other silently for long moments, each recalling their own memories of their beloved father, the king.

“How is Mother doing? I went to see her before, but she was resting,” Adrianne asks.

Jared shrugs, remembering his mother’s kind but weary eyes has she told him the news of his betrothal, and the reasoning behind it. He could tell that she sought to explain more, but Jared cut her off with his acceptance, both because he was anything but disturbed at the news, but also because he could see how much strain she was under.

The love between his parents was one heralded throughout the land, the planet’s best balladeers composing odes to its majesty. Jared can only hope that his own destiny is written such that he and Jensen can hope to attain something even halfway as close to the same. 

Adrianne’s searching face brings him out of his reverie, and he kisses her temple once more. “She is as well as can be expected. I think once the marriage is confirmed, the sense of security it will bring will lend her enough comfort that she can continue her private grieving.”

“She is so strong. I wish there were more we could do to help her,” Adrianne says mournfully, holding her brother tight.

“Indeed. All we can do now is just be supportive and try not to bring any unnecessary stress to her life.”

A knock on the door breaks up their moment, and Jared calls for them to enter. The door pushes open and his robotic manservant Osric enters.

“Jared, Adrianne,” Osric nods. His facial features are designed to mimic the basic shape of the Padaleck people, but his stature is much smaller and his body is sleek, gleaming metal. 

“Hey, Os. Did you hear the news?” Adrianne asks, bouncing over to hug the robot, who just pats her awkwardly on the arm in return.

Osric nods briskly and pulls out a holographic pad with what Jared assumes is one of his favorite checklists. “I have been informed that I have exactly six days to prepare Jared for his upcoming nuptials to the heir to the throne of Dallasia. There is much to learn and a scarce amount of time to do it in, so we must cut the shenanigans and begin.”

“I’m hurt that you think we are shenaniganing in here, Os. Addie and I have never shenaniganed in our lives!” Jared proclaims, as Adrianne giggles. 

Osric looks perplexed momentarily, before one shiny eyebrow cocks. “You are mocking me. I can tell that is what you are doing, but it will not help you get out of learning the history of Dallasia and its royal lineage.”

“He was mocking you, not me,” Adrianne points out and Jared throws her his best mock-outraged expression. 

“You were as well, Adrianne. The tone of your laughter was one of mockery. Your pitch is much higher when you are laughing out of personal enjoyment,” Osric informs her, eyes back on his pad as his fingers tap out something only he knows.

Adrianne sticks her tongue out at the robot as soon as he’s not looking at her and Jared mouths “coward” at her in response. She does it at him as well, before bouncing out of the room and back to her own chambers.

Jared sighs dramatically and stares down at Osric. “Do I really have to have history lessons before I can get married?”

Osric looks at him with a look that should be much too deadpan for an artificial being. 

“Fine, fine,” Jared says with a laugh, settling in to the nearest chair so they can get it over with. 

He has only six more days to prepare for his destiny.

==

In all of his twenty-four cycles, Jared has never stepped foot on the soil of Dallasia. The two planets are neighbors, but the hostility between the two leading families has lasted for over a century, without most people in the current generation even remembering _why._ It’s always been silly to Jared, but he has to admit that he’s never been one to concentrate too hard on matters of state. The irony, of course, being that he himself is now part of a pact that is finally –hopefully—going to bring peace to their region.

The Ackles family, as a show of good faith, has offered to host the wedding festivities, with the ceremony itself being presided over by High Councilor Richings as a sign of the Intergalactic Council’s blessing. It’s a good move, not only because Dallasia is more accessible to vessels carrying various esteemed guests from neighboring planets, but also because the palace of the royal family is astonishing in its elegance.

Jared steps off the Padalecki royal transport vessel, accompanied by his mother, sister, Osric, and four of his most loyal attending royal guards. There is a short walk through a well-manicured courtyard before the gilded palace entrance, and Jared stands back for a moment to breathe the foreign air and take in the sight of the just-darkening shimmering green of the sky. It’s a beautiful thing, one of many gem-like things about the planet as a whole, and it helps him steady himself before he descends inside to see what awaits him.

They are met inside by Queen Samantha herself, the Dallasian Royal Guard Commander Beaver standing close at her side. She is dressed in long luxurious robes, as stunningly emerald as the Dallasian sky, and her hair is tied up in long golden ropes upon her head. Jewels adorn most of the flashes of her bare flesh, and Jared reckons she is probably doing her best to impress her soon-to-be familial guests.

The queen beckons to Jared’s mother, and the two women embrace. There is a moment, just barely caught by Jared, when the two queens close their eyes and a passing moment of grief is shared between them. It feels too intimate for Jared to be witnessing, and he averts his eyes just as he notices the others in their party doing the same.

Queen Samantha pulls back then, visibly steadying herself before standing erect and spreading a wide smile on her beautiful face. She squeezes Queen Amanda’s forearm one last time before gesturing towards the rest of the Padalecki royal party. 

“Welcome to Dallasia, all of you! I am sorry that your first visit to our beautiful planet is under these dire circumstances, but I hope that this week will find us all bonded to venture forth into blessed days in the future.”

Queen Amanda smiles warmly at her in return, and gestures back at Jared and the others standing with him. “Thank you, Samantha. It is our great pleasure to come to your beautiful home to start forging the beginning of our joint family. My son, Jared is especially excited to meet his intended.”

 _”Mother,”_ Jared says on an almost-whine, his cheeks heating up as the queens laugh gaily at his discomfort. He fidgets in his place, and Adrianne can’t resist poking him teasingly in the ribs.

“Speaking of Prince Jensen, will he be joining us any time soon?” Queen Amanda inquires.

An odd look passes Queen Samantha’s face, but it is over in a blink of the eye, and replaced quickly with another brilliant smile. “Of course. He’s been a touch under the weather these past few days. He is taking his father’s passing quite hard, as are we all.”

Queen Amanda takes her hands again, holding them in her own and looking at her mournfully. “Our sincere condolences for your loss, Samantha. Unfortunately, my family knows all too well the grief that you are all suffering.”

Queen Samantha squeezes her hands back before they part. “Thank you, Amanda. And you have our sincerest condolences as well. It is a bitter bond that connects us, but all we can do is stand strong and hope for brighter days.”

“Your Highness, we should let your guests settle in to their chambers before dinner tonight,” Commander Beaver says, and Queen Samantha nods in agreement. 

“Yes, we should. Commander, please escort our guests to the south wing and make sure they are fully attended to. We shall meet for supper later this evening.”

Jared follows the group as they are led halfway across the palace to the wing they will be staying in for the week’s festivities. Jared finds himself just the smallest bit overwhelmed, the gleaming luxury of everything from the floors to the furnishings on the walls far ahead of anything they’ve experienced back home. The Padalecki royal castle is large, surely, but theirs are a simpler people, and a rustic charm has always been the first matter of importance to Jared and his family.

Jared realizes then that he’s not even quite sure where he is supposed to be living in a week’s time, and perhaps his excitement over having Jensen as his intended was overshadowing the very real details that he should have been paying attention to.

“You should wear the blue tunic. The color enhances the pigment in your eyes and therefore will be appealing,” Osric intones matter-of-factly later on that evening, as Jared scrambles around throwing around garments from his cases.

“Since when did you become the fashion expert?” Jared says with a hum, pulling out the blue tunic because even if he’s a robot, Osric _is_ also usually right.

“Your sister had me re-programmed three cycles ago to better help her choose between garments.”

“That sounds like her,” Jared snorts, muffled as he pulls the blue tunic over his head and down the length of his body. He smoothes it out and steps back, doing a little spin for Osric’s benefit.

“You appear quite tall. My statistical analysis of the preferences of the Dallasian male tells me that Prince Jensen will be pleased with this.”

“I’m hoping he’ll be pleased alright,” Jared replies, wiggling his eyebrow lasciviously and shaking his hips.

Osric, as usual, appears unimpressed. “Yes, your genitalia appears quite tall as well. Thankfully, I do _not_ have statistical analysis about that.”

“You’re no fun, you know that, Os?”

“Perhaps then you should find another close confidant that is not artificially intelligent.”

“Aw, Os. You’re still my favorite robot.”

“I am your only robot.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

Jared finishes lacing up his finest boots and huffs out a quiet sigh as he checks himself in the mirror. His hair, ever wild, refuses to do much more than wave itself around the curve of Jared’s neck, but it’ll have to do for now. No time to tame the beast when he has a soon-to-be-husband to meet.

“You are quite handsome, my Prince,” Osric says, and if Jared didn’t know that modulated tone better, he would almost think the robot was impressed.

Jared grins, throwing an arm around Osric’s shoulders and leading them both towards the door. 

“Thanks, Os. Now let’s just hope Prince Jensen thinks so.”

==

The royal dining area in the palace is even more extravagant, if that was possible. The long gilded gold table appears able to hold upwards of a hundred guests, though there are a mere five people sitting down at one end of it.

Queen Samantha holds court at the end of the table, her children on one side of her. The other side holds two more guests who appear to be, based on Osric’s holographic tutoring, the Queen’s main advisers Sebastian Roché and Rekha Sharma. Commander Beaver and four guards stand close watch nearby.

All but Prince Jensen stand as the Padalecki family come into the room, and Jared can see out of the corner of his eye how his own mother grits her teeth at the young Dallasian’s insolence.

Queen Samantha must have noticed, because her lips move in a low murmur and within seconds Prince Jensen is on his feet as well.

“Welcome, again,” Queen Samantha says graciously, coming around the table to embrace Queen Amanda in greeting before turning back and gesturing towards her people. 

“My daughter, the princess Alona.” A lovely young girl, no more than seventeen cycles with the round cheeks and starburst hair of her mother, smiles widely with a nod.

“My trusted advisors, Sebastian and Rekha.” The older, well-lined but handsome gentleman with fair hair and eyes, and a woman with strong, beautiful features and dark hair both nod at the Padaleckis with a greeting of “Your Majesties.”

Queen Samantha pauses before turning to the last and, in Jared’s eyes at least, most important member of the Ackles family. 

“And my son, Prince Jensen. Forgive him for forgetting his manners just now. His travels seem to have tarnished his sense of diplomacy.”

Queen Samantha’s voice is as cutting as Jared has heard it yet, and the pink rising in Prince Jensen’s cheeks acknowledge this chastising.

“Indeed, forgive me, Your Highness. It is lovely to make your acquaintance,” Prince Jensen says, aiming his greeting squarely at Queen Amanda as he dips a short but appropriate bow.

Prince Jensen turns to Jared then, and Jared can’t help the tiny gasp released on his breath. Jensen is, quite simply put, breathtaking. Gone is the round-cheeked boy Jared remembers with the bright eyes, spotted nose, and pretty pout. The features are all the same, yet now they are refined, all high cheekbones and plump mouth twisted into a haughty smirk that Jared is dying to kiss right off the man’s belligerent face.

Prince Jensen is a _man_ now, and Jared forgets all the reasons why he was infatuated with the _boy_ in the first place.

“And this,” Queen Samantha begins, and it appears to Jared that she’s resisting a weary sigh. “is my son, Jensen.”

“I’m Jared,” Jared says, maybe a touch too eagerly, but he can’t help himself.

“I know,” Jensen replies, those eyes flicking quickly up and down Jared’s body dismissively.

“Jensen,” Queen Samantha hisses, and Jensen visibly grits his teeth. A not-at-all hidden giggle erupts from Princess Alona behind them.

“I’m Prince Jensen,” Jensen amends, throwing in the honorific for the most obvious reasons. 

For some reason, Jared can’t help finding his insolence endearing, and it causes a grin to break out over his face until he knows his dimples are cratering deeply. His smile grows even wider when Jensen seems flustered at Jared’s lack of intimidation and his handsome face breaks into what can only be described as a scowl.

“Shall we eat?” Queen Amanda says, briskly breaking the tension. Queen Samantha looks at her with a grateful expression and motions for them all to sit and for the servants to start serving the first course.

Jared is motioned towards the empty seat next to Jensen, and he takes it with a smile. He doesn’t attempt any small talk at first, taking his time to spread his linen on his lap and sip the delicious Dallasian wine offered to him. He does catch Jensen shooting him suspicious looks out of the corner of his eye, and Jared has to stifle a laugh because of it.

They make it through three courses without saying a word to each other, Jared conversing happily with his sister and Alona, who turns out to be quite clever and as gregarious as her brother is solemn. Finally, after waiting until Jensen is lured into some false sense of security, Jared leans over and whispers to him.

“We’ve met before. Do you remember?”

Jared has to stifle another laugh as Jensen practically jumps in surprise before schooling his features back into practiced boredom. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Jensen replies, and Jared has to admit that part of him is saddened that Jensen either doesn’t remember one of the defining moments of young Jared’s life, or at least is pretending not to.

“Really? Because I remember you quite well. I’ve never had someone physically roll into my life before.”

Jensen nearly recoils at the words, grabbing his chalice and taking great gulps. He doesn’t reply and goes back to pointedly ignoring Jared for the rest of the meal, but Jared doesn’t mind. 

Jared has always enjoyed a challenge.

The worst part about having the Padalecki family here in the palace for the past three days is the fact that they are all so damn _charming._ The queen is dimpled and lovely, Princess Adrianne a delight – even the robot is amusing most of the time. 

And Prince Jared, well.

Jensen huffs out a frustrated sound when he thinks of the admittedly handsome prince. Long gone is the boy from Jensen’s memory, the one with the dirty face and pouch full of herbs. Oh, the hair is still too long and sticks up in stupid ways, and the craters in his cheeks are as deep as ever. But now Jensen can see his eyes, the ones that change colors depending on the light or the color of his tunic or the very mood of his expression. And he’s tall, so tall, the awkward lankiness of his adolescent limbs molded into strong rounded shoulders and arms that look like they could carry the burden of the galaxy.

So, yes, Jensen might be a little bit charmed.

“You are mad because you like him?” Misha concludes, badly concealed amusement shaking his shoulders.

“Bah! Get out of my face, you troublesome meddler,” Jensen scoffs in return, doing his best to ignore his best friend’s now outright and delighted laughter.

“Oh, this is beautiful, Jensen. Truly a miracle, one for the Gods!”

“I can have you executed. Don’t forget that.”

Misha waves a hand dismissively. “Then who would you talk to? Oh wait, that’s right – you can talk to your _charming_ betrothed!”

“I don’t want to talk to you _or_ him. Why can’t you people just leave me alone to stew stoically in peace?” Jensen says, grumbling. He pulls on his rattiest tunic and pants and laces up his work boots.

“Where are you going?” Misha calls after him, as Jensen heads towards the door of his chambers. “I was only jesting, don’t be sour.”

“I’m going to tend to my garden. At least the plants don’t talk back!”

Ignoring Misha’s calls, Jensen starts decisively down the hallway leading from his chambers to the small garden that he planted three cycles past when he was called back to Dallasia from his travels to do his duty as prince. The work is rigorous, but quiet, allowing him some measure of peace in his own thoughts. And it’s a project that is altogether his own, and not something even remotely expected of him.

He takes the rather archaic tools out of the pouch that he grabbed on his way out of the room, and drops them into the thick, pungent soil. Dropping to his knees next to them, he takes a moment to just breathe in the slightly humid air and attempt to clear his mind of all his troubles and obligations. Especially ones that pertain to a certain tall Padalecki prince.

The hard work drains the tension from his muscles, and before he knows it, a few hours have passed. The twin suns have just started their descent for the evening, and he will be expected to wash up and present himself at family dinner soon, so he takes a moment to stretch his back with a low groan.

“What are you planting?” 

The voice startles Jensen and he falls over until his bottom is firmly in the dirt. 

“Dammit, Jared. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on people?” 

Jensen, annoyed that his peaceful reverie was broken, jumps up to restore the proper levels between them. Jared might be taller than him, but at least if Jensen is on his feet, there is a better power balance.

Jared looks momentarily chastened, but covers it up with one of those infuriatingly adorable smiles. “Forgive me, Jensen. I was apparently raised by animals.”

Jensen opens his mouth to respond, before realizing that Jared is teasing him. Jensen instead shoots him his most scathing look and starts collecting his tools to throw back in his satchel.

“You never told me what you are planting,” Jared says, continuing on like Jensen isn’t doing his best to ignore his very presence.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but they are medicinal plants, along with a few flowers unique to Dallasia.”

“Medicinal, huh? Interesting that,” Jared replies, and his smile is _much_ too smug for Jensen’s liking. Just because Jared was once a silly boy with a pouch of herbs, doesn’t mean that he influenced Jensen’s choice in garden occupants even a little bit.

Jensen stops abruptly, Jared nearly bumping into his back as he stops as well. Jensen turns around and looks at Jared sharply. “Look, Jared. I know we have to endure each other, but I still have free will for the next four days, so it will please me if you just left me alone.”

“Your eyes are the color of the sky.” 

Jensen’s mouth snaps shut. Jared is staring at him with a strange wonder, and Jensen doesn’t know quite what to say besides, “Excuse me?”  
“The green of your eyes. They are almost exactly the same color of the Dallasian sky.”

“I don’t know what that has to do with anything –“

“I know that the color of the sky is just an effect of light refraction, and it’s unique to Dallasia, or at least it’s unique in this galaxy. But the fact that the prince’s eyes match exactly is almost…poetic.”

Jared pauses then, his mouth open like he wants to say more, but instead he just gets a rueful smile on his face and shakes his head slightly. The long shiny chestnut of his hair sways across the sharpness of his cheekbones, and Jensen can’t quite help himself from noticing.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Jensen asks, suddenly confused.

“I studied,” Jared says simply.

“You studied Dallasia?” 

“Of course. Did you not learn anything about Padaleck before these festivities?”

Jensen turns away, not wanting Jared to see the tiny bit of shame at his lack of response, and hating himself that he feels any shame at all.

“You didn’t, did you? Huh.” Jared’s voice doesn’t sound accusatory, but Jensen refuses to turn and face him anyway.

Jensen tries to pretend he’s not being a coward when he grabs his satchel of tools and walks briskly from the garden straight back to his chambers.

==

Jensen does his best to avoid Jared over the next few days, but it’s nearly impossible since the man seems to be going out of his way to find Jensen no matter where he decides to hide. The palace itself is huge – surely Jensen should be able to find a nook of his own!

It doesn’t help that Jensen’s mother is doing her best to force the two princes together, even going so far as to have Commander Beaver send his most meddling guards Kane and Hodge out to lead Jared right to him. To make things worse, if he were to be honest with himself, he would admit that his betrothed is not only charming and inquisitive, but also handsome enough to stir something in Jensen that has lain dormant for quite a few cycles.

Jensen tries everything to ignore these feelings, from avoidance to outright mockery, but that backfires on him spectacularly. 

This time it starts when Jared, in his rush to grab Jensen’s attention before he can flee around the corner, trips over his own giant feet and nearly lands face first on the marble.

Jensen can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, before realizing with unease that it’s the first real laugh he’s had since his mother sold him to a foreign monarch.

“I see you are still a clumsy one,” Jensen says, barely realizing what he has given away until he sees Jared’s silly face light up with glee.

“So you _do_ remember me. I knew it!”

Jensen schools his face back into the appropriate scowl and spins around to keep fleeing. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he throws over his shoulder.

“You remember me, Jensen of Dallasia! And don’t you forget it!” Jared calls out, just as Jensen turns the corner.

==

There is one thing that Jensen _hasn’t_ tried, and even though it seems the most extreme, the wedding is set for tomorrow and Jensen is still desperate to prove that he still has some semblance of control over the proceedings.

“Be gone,” Jensen instructs the Padalecki guard stationed outside of Jared’s chamber. The guard just looks at Jensen warily, unsure of what to do with the dueling orders.

Jensen pushes his shoulders back and stands to his own impressive height. “While you are on this soil, you are under my command as the heir to the throne of Dallasia. And I say be _gone_.”

The guard, cowering under the weight of the command, nods dutifully and scurries off down the hallway. Jensen shakes his head, setting a reminder for himself later to get his new husband a guard with more gumption than that one.

 _New husband,_ Jensen thinks to himself, annoyed that the title has already worked its way into his brain, even if he knows that it’s going to be fact the following day. All it does, however, is make him even more determined to follow through with the night’s plan. 

With that, he pushes open the door to Jared’s chambers and steps inside without pause, shutting the door behind him with a purposeful bang.

Jared is right in the middle of disrobing, standing in the middle of his chambers wearing nothing but a slip of sleep pants consisting of thin material. His bare chest, strong and robust, glimmers in the soft light of the room as he spins around and looks at Jensen with unmitigated surprise.

Jensen has to swallow hard, his cock fattening up against his will just at the sight of Jared standing there with rumpled hair and a smile.

“Jensen,” Jared says in greeting, moving tentatively forward a few steps. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need you to fuck me,” Jensen says, before he loses all nerve. He tips his chin up defiantly when Jared’s mouth falls open in shock.

“You want me to what?”

“Fuck me, Jared. Please tell me you know how.”

Jared’s eyes narrow at that, and a much more assured smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I know how alright. I’m just wondering why you went from running away when you see me in the hallway to showing up in my chambers at midnight demanding copulation.”

Stubborn fool, Jensen thinks to himself, but he can’t deny that the outline of Jared’s manhood firming itself through the sleep pants is making this idea seem better than it probably is.

“I don’t have to answer to you, not now or tomorrow or the next day,” Jensen insists, although he doesn’t object when Jared steps forward enough so that they are sharing the same heated air space.

Jared looks down at him, and Jensen curses the fact that his betrothed has so much height on him. “No, you don’t, although I am asking you plainly in order to better understand what you want from me.”

“Wasn’t I plain enough?” Jensen replies, gritting his teeth. “I want you to put your cock inside of me. Would you like me to spell it or perhaps an interpretive dance will explain better?”

Jared laughs, but this time it’s a soft, intimate sound that causes tiny puffs of air on Jensen’s face. “That is very plain indeed. But why now? Why not tomorrow night when it is – how did you put it – our duty?”

Jensen’s frustration is growing faster than his penis at this point, so he just spits the words out to shut the bastard up. “Because I’m choosing this. Not my parents, not the High Councilor, not my people – _me._ Let me have something that I choose, if only for one single night.”

Jared just stares at him, eyes full of understanding and awe, and it’s too much for Jensen to bear. When Jared leans down, Jensen knows that he is going to kiss him, and he can’t have that kind of connection, not now, not like this. Tonight is about taking what he needs, nothing more, nothing less.

“Not that,” Jensen says softly but forcefully, Jared’s lips a breath from his own. He can feel Jared vibrating with the want of it, but he relents, and brings his hands to rest forcefully on Jensen’s body instead. 

Jared begins pushing Jensen backwards, until Jensen can feel his knees hit the bed, and the motion takes him down flat on his back. He tenses for a moment as Jared begins looming over him, and it must be visible because Jared stops his movement and stares down at him.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Prince Jensen?” Jared asks, the honorific soft on his tongue.

Jensen looks up at him, trying to find a way to not get lost in the changing colors of Jared’s eyes. Jensen tells himself that this is just another night of pleasure, a romp with an admittedly beautiful man who stirs a physical attraction inside of him. It means nothing more than that, and tomorrow is not a time Jensen cares to think about.

“Let us not be princes tonight, Jared,” is all he says in reply, and he thinks the shimmer in Jared’s eyes might just be approval.

Jared bends down then, and for a moment Jensen thinks he is going in for another kiss. But he doesn’t, his lips instead grazing down the side of Jensen’s jaw and dropping small pecks along the slope of the base of Jensen’s throat.

Jensen tells himself he’s not disappointed by the lack of attempt, and shivers under the ministrations of Jared’s mouth upon his skin. 

Jensen is suddenly overheated, from the warmth of the chamber and anticipation of desire, and he fumbles to get his tunic up over his head before throwing it to the ground. Jared, the bastard that he is, just chuckles at Jensen’s struggle, and instead of helping, continues leaning over to suck biting kisses into Jensen’s now bare chest.

Jared continues down, marking a path down Jensen’s belly with both tongue and teeth. His big hands come up to Jensen’s hips, finally being useful as he tugs Jensen’s loose-fitting pants down enough for Jensen’s hardening cock to spring to attention. Without any ceremony besides a hungry lick of his lips, Jared leans down and takes Jensen into his mouth with one great swallow.

“Gods!” Jensen cries out as he arches, back off the bed and his body instinctively pushes into the wet feel of Jared’s mouth all around him.

The exclamation seems to inspire Jared, because he begins to alternate the long, sloppy drags with a pulsing suckling that brings Jensen’s cock to the very brink of eruption.

Jared must sense Jensen’s impending orgasm, because he pulls out with a wet smacking sound and squeezes the base of Jensen’s cock with one giant fist. 

Jensen groans, sucking in air, as he feels the tempest abate momentarily. He dares to open his eyes, only to see Jared’s mouth, red and swollen from sucking Jensen’s cock, but twisted into a smile of such openness that Jensen has to close his eyes again to remember _why_ he’s doing this at all.

He feels it then, rather than seeing it, when after a beat, Jared’s palms are lifting Jensen’s bottom in the air so that Jared’s head can lower even further to get at the tiny furl of Jensen’s hole.

Jensen can’t help crying out again when the tip of Jared’s tongue breeches the muscle, seeking entrance that Jensen’s body seems only too willing to give.

Jared continues like that, actions braver as he forces even more of his tongue inside, the smooth sides of it sliding against his inner walls. Jared’s fist still grasps tight to Jensen’s cock, as if _he_ wants to be the one to decide when Jensen’s orgasm will overtake him. 

Jensen wants to be annoyed by that, but then Jared pushes the first digit of his other hand right alongside his tongue, and Jensen’s too busy being lost in the pleasure of it.

Just when he thinks he can’t take it much longer, squirming at the end of Jared’s tongue, Jared pulls back completely.

Jensen peeks one eye open, wondering why he stopped, and takes in Jared’s determined face looking around the room.

“What is it?” Jensen asks grumpily.

“We need something more than spit to slick the way. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jensen snorts at that, but Jared’s just raises one eyebrow as he sits back on his haunches and tugs the string of his night pants down to reveal the largest dick Jensen’s ever seen in his entire life.

“My kin are rather… _tall_ folk,” Jared says, voice amused, stroking his already hardened and massive member.

Jensen swallows hard. “There’s a pot of salve in the pocket of my pants. On the floor.”

Jared gives him a surprised look that quickly turns to shrewdness. “Well, aren’t we prepared, hmm?”

Jensen makes a rude noise, and attempts to roll over to get the damn pot himself, but Jared manhandles him back into the middle of the bed and drops a smacking kiss to the side of Jensen’s belly button before reaching down to retrieve their prize.

Jared doesn’t waste time after that, dipping two fingers into the slick and then sliding them into Jensen both at the same time. The muscle is loosened from Jared’s tongue already, but the pleasurable burn of it brings a hiss from Jensen’s lips.

Jared doesn’t stop though, on the contrary, adding a third finger and leaning back over him to take Jensen’s nipple in his mouth and suckle it like a babe until it’s pointed rosy and hot.

“Please, Jared,” Jensen says, hating the way his voice is pleading but unable to keep himself from demanding what he knows is coming.

“Fuck, Jensen, anything,” Jared murmurs in reply, shifting back just enough to grasp his own dick with one sticky hand and begin the slide into Jensen’s body.

Jensen’s legs go up instinctively, ankles banging against the firm meat of the backs of Jared’s thighs to try and bring him even deeper. 

Jared responds, slamming home until they are joined as tightly as possible, then stopping for a moment to just grind flesh-to-flesh before starting to move again with long and aggressive strokes.

Jensen prods him on, hands coming up to knead Jared’s biceps, thighs riding tight against Jared’s waist. He begs for more with every grunt and puff of breath, and Jared gives him every bit of what he desires without any more words needing to be spoken.

Jared bends down, and he’s close, so close, to Jensen’s mouth. Jared’s lips open, and Jensen can feel the air hitting his chin. The anticipation is too much and, coupled with one last stroke that hits Jensen’s most pleasurable place dead-on, Jensen spends white all over their bellies.

Jensen catches himself just in time to turn his head before Jared’s mouth can descend upon his own, and Jared growls once before biting down upon Jensen’s shoulder instead and letting his orgasm explode deep inside.

Jensen pants into the pillow and wonders what exactly he has just done.

There’s part of Jared that doesn’t want to wake up, wants to stay here in this bed, safe and warm with Jensen’s body pressed fully against his skin. But then he remembers what day it is, that today is the day that they will be united before their families and their Gods for the rest of their lives, and every night from here on out will be as wonderful as the prior one was.

 _Or better_ , he thinks, remembers the way Jensen had held back that last part of himself even has his body sang with pleasure.

Jared’s eyes crack open and he goes to stroke down the length of Jensen’s body. His hand, however, does not touch warm humid skin, but instead cool sheets that belie the fact that Jensen hasn’t occupied them in quite a while. 

Jared, dumbfounded, sits up and stares at the empty room before him, feeling more lost than he has since his father perished.

==

The festivities begin in earnest not much later, four body servants and Osric descending on his room to make sure Jared is bathed and perfumed and dressed to gleaming perfection. Jared lets himself be manipulated, numb to the fact that Jensen could spend one beautiful night with him and then leave without a word. 

Surely, it must be a mistake? Maybe tradition overtook Jensen after the immediate heat of passion had cooled and he wanted to wait to see him again at the ceremony.

Jared, however lovelorn, isn’t a fool, and the longer the pampering and preparation of the day goes on, the angrier he gets.

He barely glances at his mother or sister when the ceremony starts, focused only on getting to the altar so that he can give Jensen a piece of his mind. 

Jared practically stomps up there, barely nodding at High Councilor Richings in his ceremonial gown as he stands ready to perform the marriage rites. Jared goes to open his mouth and potentially embarrass both their planets, when he looks down at Jensen’s perfect face and the speech stutters in his throat.

Jensen’s eyes, those bright sky-colored eyes, are rimmed with smoky kohl, and his plump lips, the ones that moved gracefully over Jared’s body the night before, are shiny with gloss. His expression begs for Jared to hold his tongue, and Jared feels himself unable to deny his soon-to-be husband anything.

The ceremony, for all its pomp and circumstance, and the fact that it’s bringing probable peace to two entire planets, is not that long. Jensen and Jared recite the vows that High Councilor Richings tells them to, pledging to bond together in a lifetime of love and respect. 

Jared means it, every word, but even as he watches Jensen’s beautiful mouth say the words, Jared doesn’t quite believe that Jensen feels the same way.

There is so much rage bubbling up inside of Jared at that moment, warring even with the love he feels flushing through his veins. He knows that this is not how he wants their first kiss to be, but he can’t help himself that when Richings declares them wed, Jared grabs Jensen’s stupidly beautiful face in his hands and crushes their mouths together like their very lives depend on it.

He pulls back after a long moment, teeth tugging at Jensen’s bottom lip in defiance, and revels in the look of absolute debauched devastation that crosses Jensen’s face, even if it lasts but a heartbeat.

The receiving line takes three times as long as the ceremony itself, both royal families and their advisers standing to greet the hundred of guests that have traveled from all over the Samulet galaxy to celebrate the supposedly-joyous proceedings. Jared shake various hands, claws, and tentacles, smiling even as he sneaks glances at his new husband to see if he is doing the same.

Jensen is smiling, his expression giving away nothing as he stands there besides Jared but a million miles away.

The reception is next, and again the royal families are escorted to their designated spots to carry out the rest of their duties, even as they down chalices of Dallasian wine and finely made pastries. 

Jared, frustrated that he hasn’t been able to get a word in edgewise to his new spouse, finally pounds his glass down on the table and hisses over at him. “Outside, _now!_ ”

Jared doesn’t wait to see Jensen’s response, and jumps up to head out to the terrace. He sends the guards a withering stare, and they leave him alone to head out into the night air. It feels like he can barely breathe inside that room, and just being outside has given him some measure of relief.

It takes a minute, and Jared is unsure that Jensen is even going to pay attention enough to give him the courtesy to follow, but finally the door to the terrace opens and he can hear the heavy footsteps of Jensen’s boots.

“Why are you stomping around having a hissy fit? Get back in there and drink the wine like a good prince,” Jensen says, eyes narrowing and arms crossed defensively.

There is so much rage bubbling up inside of Jared that he ends up spitting his next words. “How can you do this to another person, Jensen? How can you come into my room, into my bed, into my _arms_ , and then act like it meant nothing? How can we start a life together when it begins with such cruelty?”

Jared doesn’t get to hear the response, but the shocked look on Jensen’s face is the last thing he remembers as a sudden blow to the back of the head brings nothing but darkness.

“Jeffrey Dean Morgan, what were you _thinking_?” Jensen bellows at the top of his lungs.

“Sweetheart –“

“Don’t you sweetheart me, you pirate bastard! You can’t just kidnap people from their wedding receptions.”

“It wasn’t a kidnapping, it was a rescue. I heard on the grapevine your mother was selling you off to the highest bidder and I wanted to stop it.”

Jensen scowls at Morgan’s attempt to be charming with that beard-stroking thing he likes to do. “Well, genius, you really botched that, considering it was the reception, meaning I already got married.”

Morgan’s face drops and he looks momentarily chastised. “Damn. Really?”

Jensen looks down at Morgan’s lower half pointedly. “Yes, your timing always was an issue.”

“Hey, now—“ Morgan starts to protest but before Jensen can shut him up they are interrupted by a petite woman no bigger than Jensen’s sister wearing cargo pants and mechanic’s goggles pushed over her long brown ponytail.

“That’s enough, tough guys. I can practically smell the testosterone and it’s making me gag.”

“Gen, stay out of it,” Morgan growls, but the woman just waves her hand at him dismissively and turns to Jensen. 

“You must be the handsome Prince Jensen. I can see why the bastard won’t shut up about you.”

Jensen turns to point a look at Morgan, who is making a terrible attempt to pretend like he’s not paying attention. “He talks about me?”

Gen snorts rudely. “Gods fuck, does he _ever_. Won’t shut up the minute you get even the hint of liquor in him.”

That makes Jensen clap his hands gleefully, other people’s misery always good for a bit of entertainment. “And you are?”

Gen sticks out her hand and waits for Jensen to do the same before giving it a solid shake. “The name’s Genevieve, but that’s some fancy shit, so call me Gen. “ She gestures over at a figure half-hidden in the shadows of the corner, a man with a shaved head and smirk that salutes Jensen when he sees him. “That’s Sterling. He’s the silent but deadly type, you know.”

Jensen turns to Morgan, who is rolling his eyes at Gen’s introduction. “Since when did you pick up a crew for this piece of junk?”

That gets an indignant look out of Morgan. “The Impala, a piece of junk? This beauty is a _classic_ , boy.”

Jensen huffs, remembering how Morgan loved his ship more than most people love their children. “Point stands, didn’t you used to ride solo?”

Morgan lets out a deep, overdramatic sigh that gets a chuckle out of the previously silent Sterling in the corner. “Sterling and I met in a poker game with the Slug Lord of Lagonia. We both lost and figured teaming up to escape was better than sticking around and getting our dicks slimed in the bad way.”

“Ew.”

“And Gen here was a stowaway that slipped into the outer ducts when we were conducting a raid on her planet. Before I could float her, the air compressor broke.”

“And I fixed it because I’m _awesome_ ,” Gen interjects smugly.

“Yeah, she’s handy,” Morgan continues, dryly. “So we keep her around. “

Jensen crosses his arms against his chest, remembering that he’s supposed to be angry about being kidnapped – sorry, _rescued_ \- from his own wedding reception. “But that doesn’t explain why you thought it was a good idea to do what you did.”

“Oh, honey, isn’t that one obvious?” Gen tsks, and both Morgan and Jensen shoot her a look.

“Look, Jeff,” Jensen says, voice getting a little softer. “We had a great couple of months together, I’ll give you that.” He pauses as Gen wolf-whistles. “But I’m a prince. I have a duty. You can’t possibly understand what that means.”

Morgan looks at him, one brow cocked sardonically. “Now you sound like your father.”

“Uh-oh,” Gen mumbles. Sterling chuckles.

Jensen feels rage against boiling up inside of him, but he doesn’t know if it’s directed at Morgan for disparaging his father, or at Jensen himself because what Morgan is saying is _true._ The cycle Jensen spent traveling the galaxy, during which he, among other things, romped with a handsome pirate and explored planets he’d only read about on holographic screens, is a memory that both excites him and stings. Knowing that at the end of it, he was dragged back to Dallasia out of a sense of duty that he always rebelled against, is a jagged pill to swallow.

He opens his mouth to yell something insulting, but then just shakes his head wearily. It’s been a long day, and an even longer night before that. The memory of Jared – his husband, dammit, with his large hands and soft mouth, brings back what has happened in stark detail.

“Show me to my chambers. I want to rest a bit to clear my head and figure out how I’m going to explain these shenanigans without you getting sent to the brig, and then you are going to take me back.”

“Jensen—“

Jensen holds up a hand to interrupt Morgan’s protest. “Chambers. Now. And you are _not_ invited in.”

“Well in that case, Gen will take you.”

Gen rolls her eyes, but heads after Jensen. She can’t resist throwing in a snarky “Jeffery Dean, huh? Nice,” over her shoulders as she does. 

“I can still float you, woman!” Morgan yells, as Jensen stomps out of ear-shot.

==

Jensen sighs, resting his head in his hands where his elbows are balanced on his knees. He’s sitting on a cot in the tiny galley room that Gen showed him to a few hours prior. He’d spent a lot of time on this rusty bucket of a ship back during those tumultuous months that he spent traveling with Morgan. He was young then, just into his majority and aching to see the galaxy just once before being tied down to the inevitable monarchy he was born into.

Morgan had been a welcome distraction. They had met at a saloon on the third moon of Equestria, Jensen barely a month into his travels. Morgan was older, handsome and careful with salt and pepper in his beard and the sparkle of adventure in his eye. They had a fun romp that first night after one too many goblets of Equestrian moonshine, and when Morgan asked him to hop ship with him, it seemed like an easy choice.

It didn’t last, of course, Jensen’s sense of morality getting the better of him once Morgan’s rather unscrupulous business dealings started showing their more candid sides. They parted with a quick, rough goodbye tumble and no hard feelings, although now Jensen realizes that maybe he left a little something more with Morgan than he expected.

Jensen sighs again. An attached space pirate ex-lover is not even remotely what he needs now, what with a dead father, a new husband he barely knows, and the fact two entire planets and the Intergalactic Council thinks he’s been kidnapped.

All of those reasons are pretty much exactly why he’s still sitting on this cot instead of insisting that Morgan take him back immediately. Everything is a jumble in Jensen’s head right now, and it’s almost nice to have a reprieve from it, even if only momentarily and spent in this tiny space all by his lonesome.

The main dilemma is, of course, Jared, the man with whom Jensen is now united for the rest of their natural lives. So much depends on their union, on the strength of it, of them being able to learn to respect each other and live together and, one day, govern two entire planets together. Jensen tried so hard to dislike the man on principle alone, but then Jared had to go and be so charming and bumbling, with that stupid hair and those even stupider dimples on his stupidly beautiful face.

“Gods,” Jensen curses, rubbing his hands over his head. That’s not even to _mention_ what it felt like to have Jared on top of it, all around him, and inside of him. It seemed like a good plan at the time, to take back some sort of semblance of control, but the minute that Jensen woke up early the next morning and watched how peacefully content Jared looked sleeping next to him, Jensen knew he was a fool to think it would be that simple.

Jensen knows that he can’t put it off much longer, if only because his mother and sister are probably nearly hysterical with worry by now. No, he’s going to be a man, nay a _prince_ , and go back to honor the duty that has been bestowed upon him by the Gods as his birthright.

He’s nearly halfway down the corridor when alarms start blaring. Knowing that is hardly a good sign anywhere, much less on a rogue pirate ship, he takes off running back to the bridge where he left Morgan and his team before.

“What is it? What’s happening?” Jensen exclaims, rushing through the door and swirling around to see Morgan, Gen, and Sterling all holding their weapons up in an offensive stance. Scared against his will, Jensen freezes in place.

“Stay back, Jensen. Everything is fine,” Morgan hollers over at him, and Jensen forgets his anger for a moment to scowl over at him for treating Jensen like a child.

“Jeffrey Dean, so help me –“ he starts before a startled “Jensen!” calls his attention over to the direction in which all the weapons are aimed.

“Jared?” Jensen says, shocked, taking in the sight of his husband, still decked out in his wedding clothes, but holding a phaser gun aimed directly at Morgan’s chest. 

Jared’s face morphs into one of absolute relief seeing that Jensen is alive, but then turns to stone when he realizes what Jensen had just said. “You know this pirate, Jensen?”

Jensen can’t help bristling at his tone. “Maybe I do. How did you find the ship?”

Jared visibly grits his teeth at that, but the gun in his hand doesn’t waver. He nods over at a figure that comes out from the shadows behind him. It’s his robot Osric, who just waves at them like there isn’t currently a stand-off. Of course, he’s a robot, so the chances of it affecting him are slim. 

Osric starts reciting, much to Morgan’s chagrin.

“I found a hair, one statistically likely to have come from the face, on the ground near where Prince Jared was knocked unconscious. DNA analysis concluded that it was from one Jeffrey Dean Morgan, age forty-three cycles from the desert planet Unicornus. Wanted by the Intergalactic High Council on charges of piracy, vandalism, trading violations, and drunkenness and debauchery.”

“My greatest hits, thanks Bot,” Morgan replies dryly, and Jensen just stifles a laugh. He can personally vouch for that last one. “That doesn’t explain how you managed to get into my teleport pod and sneak onto my ship.”

Osric makes a noise that sounds like is supposed to mimic laughter, but comes out as more of a squeak. “That was simple. I hacked into your system based on the logistical coordinates that Misha provided me.”

“Misha?” Jensen repeats incredulously, as his best friend peers out from behind Jared’s impressive bulk and wiggles a few blue fingers at him.  


Jared shoots Misha a dirty look and bumps him away from him with his hip. “This one attached himself to my leg and wouldn’t let go even when I tried to kick him off. Insisted he wanted to help me rescue you.”

That word _again_ coming out of someone else’s mouth makes Jensen’s blood boil. 

"I'm not some damsel in distress that you need to barge in here and save," Jensen says, nearly spitting the words. "I'm a prince, have some respect."  


"You're also my husband," Jared reminds him, ten feet of muscle suddenly right up in Jensen's space.  


"That's because our planets needed me to be. Not because _I_ did."  


They are interrupted by the sound of a blast charger locking into place. Jensen turns to see Gen looking at them with amused disinterest.  


"If this is your foreplay, no wonder you needed a peace treaty to get laid."

“Oh for the love of –“ Jensen mutters, marching over to Jared and grabbing the phaser right out of his hands, ignoring his protest. He then marches right over and does the same thing to Morgan, before dumping both the weapons on the captain’s chair and turning back around to face the room.

“Enough already. Jared, this is Morgan, my dubious ex-something or other. He thought he was doing me a favor by ‘rescuing’ me from my own wedding. You both know how I feel about _that_ word right now.” Jensen sends them both a withering stare.

“And that meant knocking me unconscious?” Jared demands. Morgan manages to look almost sheepish as he strokes a hand over his beard.

“Yeah, sorry about that one. “

“And this is my _husband_ , Prince Jared of Padaleck. The one that I already _married_ because you tried to rescue me from my _reception._ ”

“There has to be a too-quick-to-jizz joke in here somewhere but I just haven’t found it yet,” Gen throws in, accompanied by an all too delighted Misha giggle from the corner.

Jensen ignores the commentary and turns back to Jared with a question. “So besides your misplaced chivalry, why are you here and not the royal guards? I would think that half the galaxy is looking for me now.”

“ _Someone_ thinks highly of himself,” Gen whispers loudly.

“He’s a prince,” half the room says in unison, but she just rolls her eyes. “Royalty, ugh.”

Jared looks almost abashed at the question, glancing up through his eyelashes in a way that Jensen tries not to think of as adorable. “Well, we didn’t really tell anyone where we were going. Osric found the hair and then Misha said he knew the quadrant where the pirates like to congregate in between raids and, well one thing led to the other and I didn’t think much beyond ‘must save Jensen’.”

Jensen can feel his cheeks heating up, and he doesn’t even know why. He hates all of this macho posturing, whether it’s from Jared or Morgan or his royal guards, but there is something about the way that Jared is talking that makes him sound so damn sincere.

“Well, that is just stupid,” is what Jensen says instead.

“I’m going to puke. This is amazing,” Gen cackles from her side of the room, throwing herself down in a chair and propping her feet up on the desk.

That breaks Jensen out of the momentarily and all-too-intense staring contest that he seems to be having with his husband, and he’s moderately grateful to the woman for that. He clears his throat and starts again.

“That’s settled then. Jeffrey Dean, take me home immediately. We’ve worried my mother long enough.”

“Yeah, well, about that,” Morgan starts, and Jensen squints at his hedging.

“No about that, this is _your_ fault, so take me home now.”

“No can do, princess,” Morgan says, and Jensen is ready to throttle the man at the title. “The good ship Impala has a raid to run in exactly seven hours in a location that is nearly eight hours away, so we are going to have to book ass if we want to make it on time as it is.”

“Raid?” Jensen and Jared say in unison.

Morgan heads over to the control panel, and Gen and Sterling start moving into action. “That’s right, a raid. The one that is going to enable our livelihood for at least the next three months, so I’m not going to miss it because you need to get back to Mommy.”

“I will have your head for this, pirate,” Jared snarls, and Jensen grabs him to hold him back as he starts towards the man.

Morgan’s mouth curls into a sly grin, without a trace of fear anywhere on him. This is the arrogant bastard that Jensen knew, and part of him is still the tiniest bit excited by it. Of course, the feel of his husband’s hard muscular chest under his hands isn’t too shabby either.

“I’m not afraid of you, pretty boy. I’ve faced down a lot tougher opponents than a kid like you.”

Jared looks ready to rush him again, before his face evens out and he starts laughing hard enough that he almost bends with it. “Oh my Gods, you’re jealous. That’s what this is. You can’t stand the thought that I have Jensen and you never will.”

“You don’t have Jensen. You have his mother’s bill of sale, nothing more, nothing less,” Morgan snarls at him, but the nerve has been hit.

Jared’s smile turns a shade cruel and he curls up to his proper, immense height, at least two hands bigger than Morgan himself. “And yet it’s still my bed he will come to on this night, not yours.”

“Enough, the both of you!” Jensen explodes, furious righteous anger bursting out of him. “I despise the both of you posturing _idiots_ at the moment, so I would rather take to bed with Misha and his tail before either of you.”

“Did someone say tail?” Misha hums, looking up from where he is apparently buffing his fingernails with the corner of the toga he wears on ceremonial occasions.

Jensen deflates at the absurdity of the situation, and just shakes his head wearily. “Fine, you’ll have your raid. But then you are to take us immediately back to Dallasia.”

“Jensen,” Jared protests, looking at him incredulously. “We should comm the palace and tell them where we are. They can have someone here to pick us up in no time.”

“And then arrest me and throw me in Richings’ brig, no thank you,” Morgan interrupts with a snort. 

“And that is supposed to deter me how, exactly?” Jared responds, eyebrow rising.

“Look,” Jensen says, raising both hands in a peace-keeping gesture. “Morgan is a lot of things, including some that are terrible, but I don’t want him arrested because of me. His intentions were good, even if he has a horrible way of showing them.”

Jared’s back to gritting his teeth again, and if he doesn’t watch that, he won’t have but half of them left. “Why exactly are you defending him like this? Is there something more you want to tell me, your _husband_ about what has gone on while I was trying to find you?”

Jensen looks Jared dead in the eye, exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed and pissed the fuck off. “Do you really want to have this conversation here, in front of everyone?”

Jared stands firm for but a moment, before shaking his head slightly and looking away. He says nothing more.

“Oh, does that mean we get to stay for a while? Because I’ve never been on a pirate ship and he’s cute,” Misha says, waving at Sterling, who just quirks one corner of his mouth up without moving another muscle.

Jensen can’t help but laugh this time, grateful for a bit of levity to break the tension. “Yes, Misha, that means we are going to stay for a little while. But just until after this raid, which we will have _no_ part of, and then we are going straight back ho—“

He’s interrupted by another alarm, this one short and sharp and followed directly by the overhead control board lighting up bright and red.

“Ah, shit,” Gen says, hopping up out of her seat and rushing over to the board, where she starts pressing keys faster than Jensen’s eyes can follow.

“Is it her?” Morgan asks solemnly, and Gen nods as the screen starts flickering and the shape of what appears to be a woman starts forming before them.

“What is it? Who is she?” Jensen demands, and doesn’t even question when Jared comes up from behind him and wraps a protective arm around his waist.

Morgan looks up at the screen and snarls. “Huffman!”

 

“Morgan,” Alaina Huffman purrs, when her system locks into the coordinates of that rust-bucket of a pirate ship he calls home. Morgan is _so_ predictable, and it took her crew barely two hours to figure out where in the northern quadrant he was hiding.

“Would you like me to initiate holographic communication, Captain?” Felicia, her communications specialist asks obediently, her fingers hovering over the board. 

“Give it a moment. Let’s make the scruffy prick sweat a little,” Alaina replies. She heads over to the corner of the bridge, where a full-length gilded mirror stands ready for primping at all times. She hasn’t seen her rival in over a cycle, and a pirate lady wants to look her best while defeating lesser beings.

She spends a moment checking over the important details. The hair, as red as Dallasian blood, swoops regally around her long neck, not a strand out of place. The matching red lipstick on her full lips is precision-perfect, bested only by the kohl around her eyes. She smoothes a hand down the length of her taut body, the material of her black bodysuit – custom made for her on her home planet of Rouge by twelve child laborers with impeccable craftsmanship—clings to her in a way that moves perfectly whenever she deigns to exert herself more than just lifting a finger to point at someone while giving a command.

Satisfied that she looks appropriately stylish enough to best that ruffian Morgan, she turns to shrewdly assess the rest of her crew. 

Felicia, the communications director, sits studiously at her desk, her eyes large and round in her face. Her red hair—not quite as bright as Alaina’s own, poor dear -- is curled in a way that accentuates her rather charming ears. 

Danneel, her first lieutenant and the only one on the crew that Alaina knows is just as shrewdly crafty as Alaina herself, is next up for the assessment. If Alaina puts aside her own aesthetic perfection, she would say that Danneel is the jewel of their planet with the long red waves hanging down her back, perfect smirk with the tiny dimple at the corner, and ample bosom busting from the folds of her own bodysuit. 

She smirks up at Alaina now before biting her luscious bottom lip, her devious mind knowing exactly what Alaina is thinking. 

Alaina clears her throat, avoiding distraction. That rendezvous will come later, after she’s defeated Morgan, gotten her prize, handed it off, and then gotten the payment that will last them at least two cycles worth of booze and moon-hopping good times.

Lastly, she turns to Julie, the youngest member of the crew and also the most naïve. She stares up at Alaina with big, vaguely terrified eyes, her red hair parted down the middle and pin-straight down to the front of her waist. She smiles shakily as Alaina squints her eyes at her.

Alaina doesn’t mean it, but a little fear is never a bad thing to whip a crew into shape. 

“I gotta pee.”

Alaina groans, her dramatic interlude shattered by the stubby-horned creature sitting cross-legged on the ground at Danneel’s feet. They’d picked him up while raiding a prison moon north of Mayhem-69X, finding him in an isolation chamber, left for dead by the guards who ditched the rock as soon as the Abaddon landed to liberate the expensive mineral deposits hidden in the main guardhouse. They figured the scruffy satyr would be good for a laugh and dragged his unconscious body along with them back to the ship.

Apparently, it was called “Chad” and was infinitely more trouble than it was worth, even if its back is a great place to rest things like cups or feet.

“You’ll pee after I triumphantly defeat my rival and get my prize and earn the payment that is coming to me so I can take a year off and not have to look at you ever again,” she replies, perfectly shaped eyebrow arching slightly as she crosses her arms over her chest.

Chad whines pitifully, as he usually does. “I thought a ship full of hot redheaded chicks would be a blast. But, man, you guys are _lame._ ”

“Danneel,” Alaina intones.

Danneel smacks Chad in the back of the head, earning her an “Ow, watch the hair!”

Alaina huffs in approval and then turns back to the main holographic monitor. She stands right in front of it, waving a hand over her own hair one last time before giving the command.

“Felicia, initiate visual contact.”

The screen slowly begins pixilating and then a moment later, the angry face of Morgan and his ridiculously unkempt beard are covering the entire screen.

“Huffman!” he hollers, like the belligerent fool he is.

“Morgan, darling, we meet again,” Alaina replies, smiling widely. She can practically see the steam coming out of his ears and it’s the most delightful thing she’s seen in at least two moons.

“I don’t have time for your nonsense right now, Huffman. Let’s dance another day,” Morgan says, and Alaina spies a weariness around his eyes that isn’t usually there. She hones in on it and stabs at it brutally.

“My, my, what have we here? The reunion with your darling princely fuck-toy not all it’s cracked up to be?”

An expression of pure alarm crosses Morgan’s face and she knows she’s got him dead to rights. “I have no idea what you are talking about, woman, but this is the end of this conversation. Disengage and back off now or I’ll be forced to retaliate.”

Alaina’s laugh rings out throughout the entire bridge. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re just getting started. I know you have Prince Jensen of Dallasia on that ship with you, and I want him. I have a buyer who is willing to pay me a pretty price for that beautiful hunk of royal meat.”

“Huffman, you’re insane if you think I’m letting you anywhere near my ship, much less anyone on board it, prince or otherwise.”

Before she can respond, there are sounds of scuffling on the other side of the screen, and suddenly Morgan is pushed bodily out of the way and the handsome freckled face of the prize himself is scowling back at her through the screen. 

“I am Prince Jensen of Dallasia, and I demand to know who your benefactor is that is threatening me in this way.”

“Oh, well aren’t you adorable,” she chuckles. “No wonder I was offered so much for this little pickup.”

More scuffling, and it looks like someone off-screen who is not Morgan is trying to pull Prince Jensen out of view. The prince is refusing and sending evil looks at whoever it is, and Alaina has to admit that she admires the royal brat’s moxie. She’s take him for a little tumble herself if she wasn’t getting so much money for handing him over.

“Listen to me, pirate, I am the heir to the throne of the most powerful planet in this galaxy. If you think you can lay one hand on me without there being immediate and brutal repercussions, then you don’t understand who you are dealing with.”

Alaina’s mouth twists into a cruel smile. “Oh, prince, it’s _you_ who have no idea who you are dealing with. And speaking of hands laying on you, does your new husband know how often my fellow pirate’s hands have been on you – and inside you?”

“That’s enough!” another voice shouts, as another, bigger and yet still incredibly good-looking man comes into view, shoving Jensen to the side and appearing on the screen. His face is twisted in rage, and Alaina just holds back a chuckle.

“Is that?” Alaina murmurs to her side, and Felicia nods in confirmation. “Yes, Captain, that’s Prince Jared of Padaleck.”

“Prince Jared, how delightful of you to join us! What a ménage, no?” Alaina says, watching him nearly spit at the screen.

“Look, lady, I have no idea who you are, but your head is going to be on a stick if you don’t turn around right now and leave this quadrant,” Jared says forcefully, shoulders back and stoic.

“Gods, these threats are tiresome,” Alaina replies with an overly dramatic sigh. “Don’t you princes know how to do anything but talk about beheadings? Have a little creativity for once.”

The other side starts fighting with each other, and Alaina uses the distraction to turn back to Felicia. “Do we have a lock on the teleporter coordinates yet? I want us in there before they know what’s happened.”

Felicia starts tapping her screen with furious fingers, but after a moment she frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Captain, but they seem to have locked their teleporter. Perhaps Morgan has a new specialist on board with him this time?”

“Dammit,” Alaina curses. She pauses for a moment to steel herself and then shrugs, putting back on her nonchalant mask. “We’ll just have to do this the good old-fashioned way.”

“Morgan,” she barks at the screen, waiting for him to finally jockey back into position in front of her.

“Disengage, Huffman. This is my last warning,” he says, gritting his teeth.

“No, this is _your_ last warning. Hand over the Prince of Dallasia or prepare for attack.” She stares him dead in the eye through the screen and watches as a muscle tics in his cheek.

Morgan looks right back. “Bring it on.”

“Bring it on? _Bring it on?_ ” Jensen yells the minute Morgan shuts off the hologram and Huffman’s smug face disappears. He starts pummeling Morgan’s chest, until Jared unceremoniously picks Jensen up and pulls him off the man.

“What the hell was I supposed to say?” Morgan replies, rubbing where Jensen’s fists just were.

“You don’t have to bait her!” Jensen says, flinging an elbow into Jared to get him the hell off of him.

“We’re pirates, we’re big talkers….gods dammit, tell your Celestian to stop humping my damn thigh!”

“Misha!” Jensen admonishes.

“What? I hump when I’m nervous,” Misha replies, slinking back to the corner with a pout.

“Can we stop fighting and figure out next steps, please?” Jared says, interrupting their argument. Jensen scoffs, but nods in agreement.

“Right,” Morgan says, begrudgingly agreeing with Jared. “Osric, I’m assuming you were the one who locked the teleporter command. Good job.”

“It was the logical next course of action,” Osric replies, pointedly ignoring when Jared shoots him a thumbs-up gesture.

Jensen turns to the pirates, looking between Morgan, Gen, and Sterling, who all just look back at him with wary expressions. “Well, what’s next then? This is your ship, what kind of weaponry do we have?”

“Yeah, about that…” Morgan trails off, stroking his damn beard again.

“What does that mean?” Jensen demands, when Morgan averts his eyes.

“It means,” Gen steps in. “That we’re the charm them and if that doesn’t work run like cowards type of pirates. It’s not great for business, but usually means we don’t die, so it has its upside.”

“You just _had_ to date a useless pirate, didn’t you?” Jared says, turning to Jensen.

“We didn’t really date, it was more just fuc--” Morgan begins to interject before Jensen shoots him a withering stare and shuts up.

“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped, did I? I didn’t ask for any of this!” Jensen says, nearly stomping his foot on the ground in frustration.

“And I did? I was forced into this marriage just as you were,” Jared shoots back, but that doesn’t stifle Jensen’s rage.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t overjoyed when you found out I was being handed to you on a platter. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me from the moment you stepped into that dining room. You wanted me even before we were engaged.”

“How dare you, you smug, insolent little _brat._ You act like you’re the only one in the entire galaxy who has ever suffered, ever known grief or pain. But you’re not, by the Gods, and other people exist.”

“Yes, you exist alright, Jared, but it doesn’t mean that I wanted anything to do with you!”

“Nor I you!”

Gen whistles low in her throat. “Damn, boys. I really need to see you two have sex when this pirate fight thing is over.”

“Me, too, for sure,” Misha agrees.

“I would also not be adverse to witnessing such events,” Osric adds.

“What?” Jared and Jensen shout in unison, panting for breath and swiveling their heads to look at the audience they completely forgot about during their argument. 

An argument, Jensen is annoyed to admit, that has stiffened the cock in his pants at least halfway.

“That’s enough,” Morgan says again, then mumbles to himself. “This is what I get for letting fucking children on my ship.”

“Technically, robots cannot be children because we do not age,” Osric replies, helpfully.

“Thanks, Bot. I’ll remember that next time when I decide to float the whole fucking lot of you.”

Gen claps her hands to interrupt. “Ok, bossman, don’t want to break up the heart-to-hearts but that little red light means that Huffman has just locked onto our position and is ready to blow the Impala out of space with us inside of it.”

“Shit!” Morgan curses, rushing over the panel. 

“What are you doing?” Jensen asks, as Morgan sits himself down, and Sterling and Gen take their spots besides him. They all start pushing buttons until a sign that says “Auto Pilot De-activated” flashes red on the screen.

Morgan’s face breaks out into an all-too-excited grin. Jensen recognizes that grin, and it’s up to nothing good. 

“Hold on, kids, because this ride is going to get bumpy.”

With that, the ship jerks sharply to the left, and Jensen falls bodily into Jared’s chest with an ‘oof.’ Jared catches him, and Jensen lets those strong arms hold him for a just a moment before remembering that he’s pissed at Jared and the whole situation and shrugs him away. Jared’s face turns hurt for just a flash, before it schools back into a stony expression and he looks back at the monitor.

The ship is flinging wildly, and Jensen grabs the nearest table he can. The ship’s not exactly decked out for too many people, so the chance of seats with appropriate buckles for safety is slim to none. He sees Misha attached to Sterling’s leg, and notices the silent pirate is not exactly complaining as he calmly cranks knobs.

The ship bucks hard right and Jensen’s almost flying. Osric, who has managed to bolt himself to the floor of the ship with spikes that have shot helpfully out of his ankles, presses his holographic screen pad furiously. 

“I highly suggest changing the path we are currently on,” Osric says to Morgan, who seems to be ignoring everyone as he steers the ship wildly to get rid of the pursuing Abaddon ship. 

“Why is that?” Jensen asks, when the ship captain himself isn’t responding.

Osric turns to Jensen with his usual calm, mild expression . “Because we are headed directly into the asteroid minefield that surrounds the atmosphere of Celestia.”

“Morgan? Is what he saying right?” Jared demands, stumbling over his own feet and landing hard into the back of Gen’s chair as the ship turns again.

“Well, the asteroid thing is right,” Morgan admits, and then pulls back hard on the gears. “But the part about us changing paths is _definitely_ not going to happen now.”

“They have their phasers locked on us,“ Gen explains when it appears Morgan is too busy showboating to continue. “We need to zig before they can zag if we want to lose them.”

“We are certainly zigging and zagging,” Jensen mutters, tumbling flat on his ass _again_ before dragging himself back to his feet. He sees Jared go to reach out to help him but hesitate, and the sappy part of Jensen hates that he’s made his husband feel like he can’t even do that much for him.

“Give up, Morgan. You can’t outrun us,” Huffman’s voice is suddenly piped into the bridge, echoing loudly and obnoxiously throughout the space. 

“Gods no, get that woman’s voice out of my damn communications system!” Morgan barks.

“She’s hacked in, I can’t lock her out. Dammit!” Gen replies, smacking the panel in front of her.

“You have ten seconds to unlock your teleporter, Morgan, or I am firing,” Huffman’s voice crows triumphantly. 

“I am unsure how you survive out in space without someone capable of doing simple logistical tasks,” Osric tsks, tapping blithely on his pad until there is a loud bit of feedback and Huffman’s voice shorts out completely.

“Thanks, Bot. Remind me to buy you a drink later for that one,” Morgan says, with a laugh.

“I do not drink, but I appreciate the offer of comraderie,” Osric replies with a crisp nod.

Suddenly, a loud boom sounds throughout the ship, and Jensen is thrown into Jared. They collapse on the floor and roll together, the ship shifting sharply to the left . 

Jensen clutches Jared’s tunic, and looks up into Jared’s face, which is tinged with panic and fear. 

There’s another loud boom and Morgan cries “fuck!” as he tries to keep buckled into his chair and steer at the same time. 

“I got it!” Gen yells over the din, unbuckling herself and rushing through the doors towards the main part of the cabin, her small body flinging back and forth and banging into things as she goes.

“Stay on the ground, you’re safer!” Morgan barks over his shoulder, and Jensen just decides to go with it and throws his arms around Jared as they roll back and forth between one corner of the bridge and the next with the rolling of the ship itself. 

“Jared, if I die—“ Jensen starts, not knowing exactly what he’s going to say in the moment, but feeling like _some_ kind of words are necessary.

“You’re not going to die, so just shut up,” Jared growls and before Jensen can get anything else out, Jared is pressing his mouth fiercely to Jensen’s.

All time seemingly stops for Jensen, as he and Jared continue to roll back and forth around the space while locked into a passionate embrace. Everything narrows down into the heat of Jared’s mouth, the taste of his tongue heavy against Jensen’s tongue, and the weight of Jared’s body against his own. Jensen’s legs come up and wrap themselves around Jared’s waist, Jared’s hands grabbing Jensen’s ass possessively. 

Jensen suddenly flashes back to that single night they spent together, realizing with shock that it was less than forty-eight hours before. So much has happened in between, that it almost seems like another lifetime entirely. Jensen only wishes that they could rewind, go back to the beginning when Jared was staring at him in Jensen’s garden and comparing his eyes to the color of the sky. Maybe Jensen wouldn’t be so hard this time, maybe he wouldn’t be such a coward and would let himself feel something for once in his life, regardless of whether it was expected of him or not. 

With this thought in his mind, Jensen presses into the kiss even harder.

“Oh, for the love of—“ Morgan yells at them, interrupting their panicked yet passionate reverie.

Jensen pulls his mouth back from Jared, but doesn’t disengage him limbs just yet. Jared is staring back at him with awe, his mouth red and bitten from Jensen’s lips. It’s a good look on him, a look that Jensen might put on there again if they get out of this situation alive.

Another loud boom disrupts that thought, and now there is definitely smoke coming through the entryway that Gen just disappeared through.

“Crazy ginger bitch shooting my baby, she’ll pay for this,” Morgan yells at no one in particular, smacking his hand down on the panel with one hand and trying to steer with the other.

Gen rushes back into the bridge at that exact moment, wincing as she’s thrown into a wall and bashes her hip. She stops and catches her breath and then announces the damage. 

“She took out the left thruster and the backup generator. We’re dumping fuel and I’m not sure how much longer until we can do that without the possibility of a full explosion.”

“It is statistically unlikely that we can maintain this altitude more than thirteen minutes based on calculations,” Osric throws in.

Jensen and Jared drag themselves into a sitting position, but stay on the floor clutching onto each other. Jensen doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but he knows that the two of them are the least likely to help deal with the technical aspects of it.

“Dammit. Sterling, where are we now?” Morgan demands, turning to the man at his left.

“Just south of Celestia, Captain,” Sterling replies, and Jensen’s almost surprised the man can talk.

“Hey, Celestian,” Morgan calls out. 

Misha perks up from his space on the floor next to Sterling’s chair, his feelers glowing bright blue as his tail thumps nervously on the ground. “You rang?” he replies tentatively.

“When’s the last time you went home for a visit?”

“Oh, dear.”

Morgan barks out a laugh. “That’s right, kids. Prepare for landing because we are crashing this girl on Celestia.”

There are many things that Jensen never wants to experience again in his life. Getting so drunk on Dallasian vine-liquor that he throws up green bile for four days. That time the goat-king of Baa wanted Jensen to rub his horns with his foot. Or the moment when Jensen found out his father died.

Crash landing in an aging pirate ship on a planet full of blue hookers? He’s adding that to his list immediately.

“Uuuuuuh,” Jensen moans, coughing from the dust from the debris covering his legs. He tentatively sits up and nothing hurts _too_ badly, so he’s hoping that means he didn’t break anything in the collision.

“Jared?” he croaks out, relieved, when he looks over and sees his husband sitting up with a dazed expression on his face. Jared runs a hand through his hair, his hand coming back blue with blood.

He waves at Jensen and shakes his head. “I’m alright, just a small cut. How are you?”

Jensen pulls himself up to his feet, standing on wobbly legs. “I’m alive, that’s a start.”

“My baby,” comes a mournful wail, and Jensen and Jared both look over at Morgan lying across the burned out wreckage of the control panel he was just sitting at.

“I would ask if he’s okay, but if he’s able to cry that pitifully, he can’t be injured that badly,” Jensen says wryly, stumbling over to help Jared to his feet and then looking around to assess the damage.

“Everyone okay?” Jared calls out, and gets various responses. 

Gen’s face is completely covered in dust and she looks like she has a mask on. “Ew,” she says, spitting out the debris that got inside her mouth, but she’s brushing herself off and is standing, so she appears okay.

“Fine over here,” Misha trills, and Jensen looks over and startles a laugh at Misha curled up in Sterling’s arms like a new bride, arms flung around the man’s neck with a dreamy smile on his face and fully erect feelers.

“Can I put you down now?” Sterling asks him dryly.

“Nope,” Misha replies, snuggling in deeper.

Osric, still bolted to the floor with the spikes from his ankles, is looking a little worse for wear, considering his right arm is ripped off from the elbow down.

“This is most inconvenient,” he tsks, his face almost Jared-like in its pout. Looks like the robot learns from his master after all, in the most unexpected ways.

“Captain, we have to get out of here,” Gen insists, wiping the last of the dirt from her cheek. “Huffman and her crew couldn’t have been far behind us.”

Jared springs into action immediately. “She’s right. Huffman’s entire objective in attacking was to get Jensen, so this ship is the last place we need to be right now.”

“Bah,” Morgan says, standing up. He leans down and kisses the control panel one last time. “Goodbye, baby. I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

“Morgan, stop making love to your piece of junk and get us some damn weapons so we can defend ourselves,” Jared demands.

Morgan looks at him like he’s ready to shoot back a retort, but seems to think better of it as he instead heads over to a case and starts throwing phasers to them.

Sterling puts down a sad looking Misha, who perks up when Sterling hands him a little silver taser with a smirk and a “you know how to use this?”

“I’m a fast learner,” Misha replies, batting his eyelashes.

“Misha, for Gods’ sake, focus,” Jared says incredulously. “This is your planet, so you need to help us figure out the best place to hide.”

“Why are we hiding? We should take the fight to them and figure out whom in the name of the Gods is trying to kidnap me in the first place!” Jensen insists. Everyone seems to be forgetting that there is someone out there that seems to have paid – handsomely, he might add — to have a gang of dangerous space pirates kidnap him for some Gods-forsaken reason. Jensen, for one, wants to find out why.

“Jensen,” Jared starts, voice completely exasperated. “We’re two pampered princes, a robot, the three most cowardly pirates in the galaxy, and _Misha._ Tell me again exactly why we should go seek out the crew of crazy mercenary killers?”  


“Well, when you put it that way.”

Jensen clutches the phaser to his chest and takes off running out of the ship.

==

Morgan, for all his pirately faults, actually managed to be a pretty good crash-lander. He didn’t take out any houses, but instead put the ship down –roughly, granted—in a huge courtyard that led out into an lattice work of alleys.

It’s through this alleyway that they climb out of the busted ship and creep down, staying along the wall for the best protection. They figure that they don’t have too much of a head start, and the sudden appearance of a broken pirate spaceship in the courtyard won’t go unnoticed for very long. 

“Oh, good! You landed well. I know a place we can hide,” Misha announces, and it’s the first bit of good news that Jensen’s heard all day. 

After another ten minutes or so, Misha leads them towards a hidden door with no adornment above it. If one didn’t know it was there, one would likely pass it right by, which is perfect for their current situation.

“Don’t be alarmed by what you see,” Misha warns, before knocking four quick times in succession. The door clicks open on the fourth knock, and he leads them directly into a darkened corridor. 

“It’s so dark, how can we see anything….oh.” Jensen’s voice trails off as, as soon as the group gets inside the door and it shuts and locks automatically behind them, the lights, while still dim, rise enough to expose an undulating mass of bodies.

“Everyone,” Misha starts, waving at Jensen and the group and then back at the naked people. “Meet the family!”

“That position seems illogical,” Osric says, head tilting to the side.

“If I didn’t have a concussion, this might seem weird,” Gen adds.

“Misha!”

“Hey, Mom.”

Jensen slaps his hands over his eyes as fast he possibly can.

“She put on a sarong. It’s safe to look,” Jared whispers in his ear, amusement in his voice for the first time since they got married.

Jensen peeks one eye open and see an older, beautiful lady with dark hair, skin a shade deeper blue than Misha’s, and bright feelers embracing Misha in her arms. Jensen knows that Misha hasn’t seen his family in at least five cycles, and there has been tension there in the past about him venturing out to a different planet to ply his trade. It would be kind of sweet, under different circumstances, of course.

“Family reunions are fun and all, but do you naked folks have a place for us to hide? We’re on the run,” Jared asks. Jensen peers over and Jared is looking up at the ceiling with pink cheeks, and he can’t help but find his prudishness adorable.

“You can stay naked, though,” Sterling deadpans, and Morgan looks at him like he has two heads. Looks like old Misha is rubbing off – literally – on another poor sap.

Another beautiful Celestian, naked body glistening with a sheen of sweat that appears almost shiny like glitter, walks over to them with a wide smile. 

“That’s my cousin, Cindy,” Misha throws out. Jensen goes to stick out his hand, and it ends up connecting with her bare breast.

Cindy just chuckles good-naturedly, tossing her black hair over her shoulders and beckoning them towards the back of the room. 

“So, you people just get it on with your family members? I mean, I _am_ a space pirate, so no judging here, but that’s some freaky shit,” Gen comments, eyes locked on Cindy’s swaying tail as they follow the naked Celestian.

Misha’s mother chuckles. “Oh, you primitive creatures. So delightful. There is no ‘on’ to get. We are recharging our pleasure center as part of our daily energy regimen. You all should try it sometime. I guarantee there would be less war.”

“This is a logical conclusion. If natural beings were more concerned with physical and mental enjoyment, the likelihood that they would want to maim each other would be lessened,” Osric agrees, waving the stump of his arm around.

“See, the robot gets it,” Misha’s mother replies with a wink, as they cross an entryway and spill out into a large room with no furniture besides pillows lining the walls along the floor.

“Do we want to know what’s been done on those pillows?” Jared whispers over to Jensen, who just shakes his head with a panicked expression. Jared laughs softly, and Jensen can’t help a small smile.

They aren’t in there longer than ten minutes before a loud crash comes from the front where they entered, followed by the sounds of phaser guns and screams in a language Jensen doesn’t know but assumes is Celestian.

Suddenly, several more Celestians pour into the space, armed to the teeth and throwing more weapons to Jensen and his group.

“I thought your race were all pacifists?” Jensen shouts over at Misha, as Misha locks a blast charger into place.  
“We are. But slug lords don’t take no for an answer and we have standards,” Misha replies, with a shrug.

The action gets closer to them and they are ready with their weapons. They are not expecting, however, the stun bomb that Huffman throws into the room, causing a flash of light that blinds them long enough for chaos to ensue.

Shots are fired and Jensen hears someone crying out in pain. It sounds frighteningly close to Jared, and Jensen is horrified.

“Jared!” Jensen shouts, not able to see his husband anymore in the brightness. Jensen aims his phaser but without being able to see properly, he doesn’t take the chance of firing. 

Suddenly, Jensen feels himself being lifted, and then he’s begin dragged through a hallway by his hair, still blinded from the light. Once he’s past the threshold, he’s thrown to the ground, and he blinks his eyes quickly to try and see who apprehended him.

“You’re even prettier in person, imagine that,” says a voice in the light, and between the tone and the words, Jensen knows it’s Huffman herself.

“What do you want with me? What did I do to you?” Jensen demands, his eyesight slowly clearing to see her standing above him with a phaser gun pointed directly at him. She has googles lifted over up over her bright red wave of hair, and he realizes she and her crew must have used them to see past the stun light blast.

Huffman rolls her eyes and waves the phaser around nonchalantly. “Money, princess, what else? Heyerdahl is paying me a pretty sum to capture your ass and take it back to him. That idiot Morgan just made it easier for me by getting you away from your palace and the entire Dallasian royal army.”

“Heyerdahl?” Jensen repeats, stunned, the name immediately conjuring up reviled memories of the former Dallasian defense minister. “Heyerdahl! My father banished him to the Far East quadrant of the galaxy for trying to overthrow the government. Are you telling me he’s the one that’s caused all of this drama?”

“Not only this drama, sweets. Who do you think killed your daddy and King Padalecki?” Huffman says, her smirk triumphant when Jensen’s entire face falls in horror and surprise.

“Oh, you didn’t know that part, did you? Poor thing,” she crows, laughing through her slash of a crimson mouth.

“But why me? If he already killed my father, why try to kidnap me now after the fact? My mother is still the queen, I have no real power on my planet, and likely won’t for decades,” he says, trying to work it all out in his head, but dizzy from both the crash and the ensuing fire fight.

“Isn’t it obvious? You are the prize. Not only did he punish your father with his death, he’ll punish your mother _and_ you with your desecration.” Huffman stops to laugh. “I mean, I’m not one to be sentimental, but that’s some poetry right there.”

Jensen uses that moment of her distraction to pull out the phaser gun that he hid under his tunic, and sends a blast ray right at her chest. She flies backwards with a stunned shout and falls slumped to the ground.

“How’s that for poetic?” he growls down at her, falling back in exhaustion.

“Jensen!” comes a shout, as Morgan comes running into the door, followed closely by Sterling and Gen. “Are you okay, did she hurt you?” he says, kneeling down besides Jensen and running his hands lightly over his body to check for injuries.

Jensen pushes his hands away and drags himself to his feet. “I’m fine, where’s Jared?”

“She’s still breathing,” Gen calls out, from where she’s squatting next to Huffman’s unconscious form.

“Tie her up. We’ll let the council take care of her as soon as we get far enough away that they won’t round us up, too. I'm sure they'll get her to sing against her would-be benefactor for leniency,” Morgan replies, and Gen nods before proceeding to do just that.

“We got the rest of her crew tied up as well. It’s over,” Morgan says, turning back to Jensen and smiling with what Jensen assumes is supposed to be reassurance.

He didn’t answer Jensen’s question however, and fear builds up in his belly as he repeats it while at the same time running back towards the other room. “I said, where is Jared?”

“Jensen…” Morgan trails off, and his face is nothing but pity.

“Oh no, no, that’s not going to happen. Jared!” Jensen screams, running into the next room. Jared is on the floor, covered chin to waist in bright blue blood. He head is slumped over and resting in the lap of Misha’s mother.

“Jared, no, not Jared, please,” Jensen yells out, running over to his husband and falling to the floor beside him. He pushes the Celestians away and cradles him in his arms. 

“Jensen, wait. Let us help. He’s not dead, okay? He’s injured, but we have medicines and you have to let us treat him,” Misha says, reaching over to grasp his best friend’s forearm.

“What? Oh,” Jensen says, through what he now feels are tears on his cheeks. “Yes, please, save him. He was just trying to help me, that’s all. He’s a good man, I know it now. Please.”

“My cousin Cindy is a nurse by training, a healer. Let us take him,” Misha says again, prying Jensen away, as three strong looking Celestian men come up and lift Jared’s limp body onto a makeshift stretcher.

“Please, save him,” Jensen says again, watching helplessly as he’s taken from the room.

 

The first thing that Jared feels is a sharp tug of pain right in the middle of his solar plexus, followed immediately after that by a dazed sensation of ice flowing through his veins. His eyelids, so heavy from whatever is sending that sensation coursing through him, crack open after long moments of struggle.

“He’s awake!” comes a voice that sounds vaguely like Jensen’s, and it makes a smile tip the corners of Jared’s mouth. Jensen. His husband. Jensen is his _husband._

“Ugh,” Jared groans, as he tries to move. The swift jab of it reminds him suddenly and sharply of the events that put him wherever he is now, and the consequences of what happened _after_ he married Jensen, his husband.

“Jared, can you hear me? It’s Jensen.” A hand touches Jared’s face and he leans into them instinctively. A sigh escapes his lips at the sound of his name, and it’s one of relief even through the pain.

“Water,” Jared manages to croak out, and the hand disappears long enough to then come back with a cup pressed to his cracked and dry lips. Jared sucks the liquid eagerly, and the fresh water rushes down his throat like a gift from the Gods.

“Are you in pain? Can you look at me?” Jensen continues on, and Jared lets out an exasperated sigh at all the questions.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Jensen growls, seeing Jared’s look. “Do you even know how long I’ve been sitting here? Three days, Jared. Three full days surrounded by blue naked people with tails assuring me that my Gods-forsaken husband was going to wake up and come back to me but you just kept sleeping. You almost died, do you hear me, you idiot? You almost died and you can’t _do_ that to me! Never again, Jared Padalecki, you terrible man!”

Jared doesn’t even care that his entire face hurts when a huge smile breaks out from ear to ear. He can practically feel his dimples indenting his cheeks.

“I think that’s the closest you’ve ever been to ‘I love you, Jared’. I’ll take it.”

Jensen huffs a breath, and there is just enough of a pause for Jared to be the tiniest bit worried that he read the situation wrong. But Jensen continues, and his voice is softer and fond, and Jared knows everything is going to be just fine.

“You are still terrible. An absolutely horrible husband. I mean, I’m going to have to train you how to be a civilized person who knows better than to run into danger like a wild person.”

Jared’s eyes finally crack fully open. Jensen is grinning, the bastard. “Wild person, huh? Wait until I get out of this…what is this, a bed? Yes, out of this bed that has surely been used in ways that I don’t even want to contemplate, and back to _our_ bed back on Dallasia. I’ll show you wild person then.”

Jensen’s eyes flare with lust, and it makes every bit of pain in Jared’s chest worth it. But then his face turns soft again, and he smiles, reaching over to take Jared’s hand in his own. “Dallasia is it, then? You alright with leaving your home planet for me?”

Jared squeezes the hand back, and doesn’t let go.

"And who knows where else? We have our whole lives for adventures.”


End file.
